<http://schema.org/articleBody>
"&amp;quot;Is that Nicholas?&amp;quot; my sister-in-law asked. She was on the other end of the phone line when her nephew \u2013 my son \u2013 started playing the piano. &amp;quot;Wow!&amp;quot; she exclaimed. Wow, indeed. I looked over at the piano where my 10-year-old was playing Beethoven&amp;#039;s &amp;quot;F\u00FCr Elise&amp;quot; and told him, &amp;quot;She&amp;#039;s impressed.&amp;quot; His face brightened as he announced, &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;ll go get my sax!&amp;quot;  Oh no. Roll over Beethoven. Here comes that darned saxophone. My sons have been taking piano lessons for nearly two years, and it shows. When he&amp;#039;s not playing Beethoven, Nicholas likes to compose his own classical songs, and they&amp;#039;re pretty good. His little brother, however, prefers Sinatra. When he plays &amp;quot;New York, New York,&amp;quot; it feels like intermission at Broadway show around here. Milk Dud, anyone? But then fourth grade band class had to go and ruin it all. In our school system, fourth graders have to choose an instrument to play for band \u2013 and it can&amp;#039;t be the piano. My son chose the tenor saxophone, the same instrument that Clarence Clemons plays for Bruce Springsteen&amp;#039;s band, only for Clarence, the sax isn&amp;#039;t nearly as big as he is. Also, when he practices, geese don&amp;#039;t answer him. I certainly don&amp;#039;t expect my son to be able to master the saxophone in just one month of practice. I&amp;#039;d just like his sax to stay at school until he does. Unlike our digital piano, his sax has no volume button. Worse, it&amp;#039;s mobile, which is why he wound up on our front step the other day, jamming. As he set up his sax, our fourth grade neighbor, David, announced, &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;ll go get my trumpet!&amp;quot;  Okay! And I&amp;#039;ll go get a drink! My younger son grabbed his recorder and joined the impromptu band on the front step, when the police showed up, lights flashing, down the street. I had a vision of the boys in high school, when, no doubt, the sax and the trumpet will add guitars and a garage. My garage. &amp;quot;Mrs. Singer,&amp;quot; the police will say. &amp;quot;Is this your son? And is this his sax?&amp;quot; But the policeman was merely pulling over a speeding car. He left before the boys started playing their second &amp;quot;song.&amp;quot; Phew. I turned back to the, uh, band. My younger son \u2013 a third grader \u2013 put down his recorder mid-song, and shouted, &amp;quot;Mom! Next year, I&amp;#039;m gonna play the clarinet!&amp;quot; Oh no. Roll over Sinatra. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.goodhousekeeping.com/life/parenting/a20342/good-grief-100307/?src=shelter_footer>