JJ (3) was playing with playdough. I watched as he carefully rolled small balls of playdough and inserted them neatly into mini-muffin tins. Then I noticed that he had my pastry brush. He brushed each muffin carefully (Egg-washing them the way his Opa, the Dutch Baker, does.). SA reached for some of the playdough. JJ stopped him. "No! I need it. I'm a Bakah-Man."
Another day SA (5) was playing the piano. I was surprised and pleased when he started "sounding out" some chords: C-E-G, chord, chord. I told him, "That's a chord." "Uncle 'Kenzie was doing it," he replied. Pretty soon he had JJ doing it, too. I was proud of them, but ashamed of myself. How could I (musical, piano player, choir singer) have let them have their first music lesson from their 11-year-old uncle whose interests thus far seem to lie more in sports than in music? The truth is, I have underestimated how musical they are just because they don't sing in tune yet. (We do sing hymns together every day.) It's time to start thinking about teaching them some music.
