My family and I have completed a big cross-country move. It was a trial — that’s for sure — but we made it. As we’ve relocated much nearer our families, we’ve had the opportunity to see our son around them (something that was very few and far-between over the past five years we spent away). There is, strangely, a difference between him with family members and him with near-total strangers and non-relatives. While he was known as “the happy baby” during his short stint in daycare, and has constantly been referred to as “the happiest baby ever” by anyone who has met him (and even a number who (bless them) looked after him for a couple of hours while my wife and I were both working, there is something even more vibrant about him when he gets around family.
So it was when our son went over to see my father-in-law. His Grandpa is a pretty awesome guy. Just one of the awesome things about Grandpa is that he’s an excellent drummer. Now our son hasn’t ever seen drums (to my recollection), and while he’s been around music and musical instruments (namely the piano and guitars), he decided he wanted to pick up drumming. We heard him from the other room. Someone had put two sticks in his hands. Now Grandpa has a pretty big kit, lots of pieces big and small, and I even find it surprising to hear the sounds I didn’t see emerge from that drum kit when Grandpa plays. Our son, however, had no trouble moving himself from one drum to another. He quickly started playing the toms with one hand and the cymbal with another. Most surprising, however, was that he had rhythm. There was a beat to what he was doing. (At this point I remind everyone that he’s not yet 2 years of age). At any rate, we look forward to Grandpa teaching him to drum. (Grandpa also looks forward to a drum set being in our home 24/7).