Last night Cary took the kids to a St. Joseph's Day table at our friends' house. Our friends had hired a band - two musicians in their eighties- to play at the party. According to Cary, Henry plopped down in front on the band with a huge grin on his face. The mandolin player came up and handed his instrument to Henry, who started to play it, and the guitarist did his best to play along.
This morning at breakfast I said, "Henry, Daddy said you really liked the band last night." He replied, "You got the story a little bit wrong, Mom. I played with the band."
I skipped out on the event because I've had a terrible cold. It turned out to be a wise choice because Lucy woke up in the middle of the night with a fever, and I was up with her off and on all night.
Should be playing "100,000 Fireflies" by The Magnetic Fields, but I am posting from the laptop and it's not in iTunes on this machine.