I assume that most toddlers, if they are female, like to hold a baby doll and imagine that they are the mommy. Most boys probably like to pretend to be puppies and eat off the floor or maybe they sit on toy cars and take on the role of race car driver. Some may even beg their parents to play house or Sheriff & Outlaws. Not my son. We all get to be in a rock band. Every. Single. Day.
As you all know, Garrett got drums for Christmas. What you might not know is that, in addition to the drum set, my aunt sent up a child sized keyboard her family was no longer using, my parents gave him the ukulele they bought for him in Hawaii sixteen months ago, and Santa deposited one of those cheapy echo microphones in his stocking. Plus, he recently discovered an old harmonica that Troy had lying around. We alternate who plays which instrument. Sometimes we have to try to figure out how to play the harmonica and the ukulele at the same time because those are the instruments that the band leader bestowed upon us. We sound amazing. It is, seriously, a real treat. I'm sure.
It doesn't end there, however. Oh no, our ragamuffin band practices constantly but, in addition to making sure we hone our craft where the instruments are concerned, he is insistent that we also practice our vocals.
My brother and Heather got me Sing Star for the Playstation 2 for Christmas and it is extremely fun. Every night Garrett asks for Sing Song and, specifically, "Baby baby how I 'posed to do..." which is toddler speak for Britney Spears Hit Me Baby, One More Time. It happens to be on the particular version I got and, yes, I know she says, "...how was I supposed to know?" I realize that she doesn't say the word do but he sure thinks she does. Anyway, we must sit, and sing, every night, for quite awhile. He must know that it is the only way for him to realize his goal of us becoming the trio version of the Van Trapp's or the Partridge Family.
I'm not dumb enough to try to record all of us in our Toddler Band glory but here is Garrett, once again on drums. I've taken to, occasionally, referring to him as D.B. for Drummer Boy.
I love how, at the beginning, he bangs the sticks together and says, "One, two, three!" and then he does it again 15 seconds in to the video. I also love how, starting at 35 seconds, he apparently needs his cheeks full of air in order to successfully drum. Furthermore, I find it hilarious that he appears to be drunk when he stands up at the end.