Hymn of A Band Director's Kids!

I was on (another) trip from my parents' home to ours with my two children. Moriah was in the front seat with me and Luke safely strapped into the backseat. As we were leaving city limits and the speed limit increased, I sped up to set my speed control to the maximum limit of 55 (okay, I set it to 60 but that's usually allowed, right?).

I noticed out of the corner of my eye that my daughter was leaning over to my side of the car. "What are you doing?" I inquired. I was unaware at that particular time but that one question set the tone, if you will, for the rest of the trip.

"Uh, I was just checking that speed thingy and noticed that you are driving a little moderato."

'What?' I thought but didn't say anything. I didn't have time to respond. Out of the backseat came screams of laughter and joy. "ALLEGRO! Momma!!!"

"No, no, NO Luke! You do not want her driving Allegro!"

I yell out "Presto!" She screams in dramatic terror as only she can do. I start to laugh. She asks if I am aware of how fast I am going. I said, "Yes. I have the speed control set on 60."

"SIXTY!!!!!!!!!!! It looked like 48 from over here."

"Uh! Yeah! That's what I meant....48. I'm going 48 miles per hour."

"You are not! You really ARE going 60, aren't you? That IS Allegro!!!"

Luke is getting all excited and yelling 'Allegro, allegro, Momma!'

"Mom," Moriah pipes in, "You should always drive Adagio!"

At this point, I'm thinking 'Layoff you little Staccato!' But instead, I answered with "If I drive adagio we will never make it home! Can I at least go Moderato?"

I thought we had reached the finale but apparently it was only a coda. When we came into a small town, without thinking of the consequences of my notes, I said in what I thought was a piano voice, "Is this adagio enough for ya'?" Oh no! I was flat wrong....mezzo forte!! She heard me!

She glances over at the speedometer and quirks, "Yes!"

As we reach the city limits on the opposite side of this town, I said in the most uncool smart aleck voice I could come up with, "Crescendo!" She says "What does that mean?" HAH!!! Something she didn't know. I realized at this point that it had nothing to do with speed. I had to act quickly so as to not appear like a total moron. I said, "It means to gradually get louder; like this..." as I reached over and turned the volume up on the radio to fortissimo.

She turned it down and began to tell me about a dream in which she had the night before. An interlude if you will. In this dream, she and her friends that live across the street were building party buses like Miley Cyrus has and when they finished they helped Luke and Baby Carly (from across the street) build little baby party buses. This drone went on for 25 miles. But, since we are cruising along at allegro, is it really that long??

We came to the next town, it seemed only natural to stay on the motif. I interrupted her dream sequence to say "Duh-min-u-end-O." She pauses for a moment and then says, "Mom!!! Diminuendo has nothing to do with speed! Do you know nothing about music?....." This was followed by a reprise of musical knowledge that made me feel like a complete and total drooling ritard and turned my whole evening into a deceptive cadence.

I learned valuable information from this evening though. The key to survival in our little Capriccio is (even though you might feel the need to on occasion) refrain from choking your children with a chord and never beat them; instead, keep harmony in your household by treating each precious little one like a fermata. Hold them. Fine (Fin-A).