Thursday was disappointing this week. The boy with the red hair was not there.
I was told that he had been hospitalized because he had suddenly gone completely out of control. The example that I was given was that he had been dancing about the kitchen nude. This didn’t seem such a serious offence to me, but I gather it was one of several other acts of defiance verging on the violent. He has always been enthusiastic and compliant in my music classes, but this could well be because I have never asked him to do anything he doesn’t want to do. I expect he would have enjoyed an aria from Madame Butterfly if I had told him it was classical Rap music. I will admit to having once sung a spot of Carmen and telling him just that. He did used to get a bit restless when it was somebody else’s turn for a song, but we used to chant the same ritual words. “It is not my turn now, but it will be soon. I have something good to look forward to which is almost as good as doing the thing itself.”
Perhaps someone could have told him that Rappers always wear clothes in the kitchen...
This left my second group only composed of the girl who leaks music and the humming boy with the arms wrapped round his head. Neither of them are verbal, but both supply quite a prominent backing vocal soundscape. I did my best, but my heart wasn’t really in it without the red headed boy. I hope he is back soon.
The first session was greeted with his usual enthusiasm by the boy who just says oui. I gave him a little soft plastic stuffed juggling ball to squeeze to prepare his hands for making the right shapes on the keyboard. He placed the ball to one side and approached the keyboard.
The boy who makes a noise like a chainsaw and eats everything became unusually silent. I didn’t notice at first because the boy who says oui was determinedly pressing the bright yellow button which makes the keyboard spring into life and play a series of demo tracks…on its own…without him. He had sensibly decided that this was by far the easiest way to play the instrument.
When I looked round, the boy who eats everything had gnawed apart the juggling ball and eaten half of the tiny plastic pieces in the middle of it. He smiled with delight and satisfaction at having outwitted me. Meanwhile, the girl who loves keys cooed gently to my key ring and stroked her face with the keys.
When the keyboard had finished its demo tracks I gave them a rousing chorus of Stand By Me and we danced around the room a bit, but kept our clothes on.
9 hours ago