22. March 2009 · 5 comments · Categories: Ramble

Me: “Sorry, honey.”

Son: “That’s okay. I just wish I was an oboe.”

Now that might be totally baffling to readers, yes? So here’s the rest ‘o the story:

At the kiddie concerts the conductor, Peter Jaffe, would ask various people to hold up their instruments to show the kids. When he did that with the harpist, he said, at least at one performance, “Dan, toss your harp in the air!” or some such thing. At that point I looked at the principal oboist and said, “Could you toss your oboe in the air even a little?”

“No,” she said. And then she popped up with this, “But isn’t it funny that we can toss our babies in the air?”

I agreed. I can’t even fathom letting go of my oboe. Not even as a joke, knowing I could quickly catch it again. But I’ve tossed each of my babies in the air, although of course not terribly high. I never doubted I’d catch them.

So I was telling this story to Dan and Brandon just now, and that’s when I said, “Sorry, honey.” And he responded as he did.


I love that my kids are so fun … and funny!


  1. Yeah, but oboes don’t fix themselves nor do they enjoy that sort of thing like babies seem to. 🙂

  2. Well, how do you KNOW … have you tried it with your oboe? Huh?

  3. I just did – no squeals, no giggles, no burbles of joy, nothing.

    On the fixing-itself thing I’m going to hold off for now.

  4. But did it spit up in your face?

  5. …not THAT time. Besides, isn’t that the reed’s job?