When Natalie started to practice, baritone notes careened off knotty-pine walls and our house echoed like a sound box on steroids. Sofia ran downstairs to snatch her trumpet and join in.
Quite the concert ensued, missing only the round sounds of Elaina's French horn.
I don't know why she didn't join in.
|Nat and Sofia belt it out.|
As if losing interest, Natalie slid to the floor from her perch on Andy's desk chair. Sofia continued alone, tooting to class-lesson music spread precariously on the metal stand.
Suddenly, Sofia's tune turned peppy. Nat started bouncing along on her b*tt, the baritone nearly engulfing her.
It was like her fingers had a mind of their own. They danced on the valves. She licked her lips and kissed the mouthpiece with a smack. A jazzy slew of notes erupted, weaving in and out of Sofia's structured song.
|Sofia and Natalie share a magical moment. Gypsy rolls her eyes.|
Always the critic, Gypsy wasn't impressed.
But I was.
|FLD Scout wasn't sure. Here she checks out that shiny thing that makes noise.|