The dude aka Boo, wants to be a drummer.
He is constantly drumming on walls and tables and peoples heads and my back as I scrub his shit off the walls.
The dude wants to be a drummer baaaaaaaaad.
He wants a drum kit for his birthday (fat chance) or from Santa (fat suited chance with a jolly laugh).
Today I humoured him and took him to the music store. I had a little chat with the guy while Boo’s eyes bugged outta his head and he made a very LOUD Christmas list, including his sisters.
Cause apparently we are gunna be The Partridge Family. Or the Osbournes…
So while Boo was losing his freaking mind, squealing and flapping and flapping and squealing and almost taking off in his rapture – ‘the red set Mummy! The RED SET!!! With HI HATS MUMMY! HI HATS!’ – the shop guy who is obviously on commission wandered over with a set of drumsticks.
‘Hey, would you like a go?’
Is the Pope a Catholic?
And he sat him down in front of the electronic drums. The electronic drums that are on !!SALE!! Marked down from $1600 to !!ONLY!! $1400. The electronic drums that make all sorts of awesome freaking sounds and ‘See Mum (arsehat called me MUM! Fucker) you can turn it down so it is not too loud.’
And Boo fell in love.
And he is planning the wedding.