My dad and stepmom have been reminding me for years that there's a lot of my junk in their garage attic. I've mulled it over, and decided it's time to sort through.
This week I found my old dolls: Jenny, Teddy, Raggedy Ann & Andy, a clown that my 7th-grade boyfriend Eric gave me, my journals circa 7th-12th grade and a recorder.
I gave the recorder to Sam saying: This comes into "play" around 5th grade...and you'll be prepared.
All of the stuff is still in my backseat. Tonight, while Matt and I were driving Sammy around in my car, Sam started his famous 7:00 p.m. meltdown. I reached in the backseat and produced the recorder that soothed him for 5 miles.
The C scale; Mary Had a Little Lamb; Oscar Peterson.
Oh, I blew well.
Sam quieted.
Matt said, "Holy Shit, that awful sound worked!" and I replied, "Of course it did, and I think I'll leave it in my car for such emergencies."
Matt said that he couldn't wait to see people mouthing, "Is that an actual recorder that woman is playing????"
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