These boxes were delivered to John's parents house, begging to be opened. But, Finn still had $15 to go. People were like "for crying out loud, let me give Finn the rest of the money already" but John was being all strict and said NO.
John's mom set up a "recycle for drums" box at her work too. His dad even set up a jellybelly-for-spare-change dish at his place of employment. I think they REALLY want the drums out of their garage, no? In the meanwhile, the practice sessions at home are becoming more and more militant. I try to clean up their make-shift sets at night, stuffing them into their toy box and the armoir.Then, I awake to this remarkably SAME setup every morning. It's pretty amazing how this little set seamlessly and purposefully pops back together after mass demolition the night before.
( note wee baby off to the corner)
One morning they started paractice at 6:15 a.m. and I had to call
the cops daddy on them for disturbing the peace.
Last night, Finn finished raising the rest of the money. He did it! This afternoon when I asked him to clear his lunch dishes off the table, he said, " I don't need to do my chores anymore -- I already have enough money for my drums". Oh boy, we had to have a little chat about that.
Tomorrow, John is going to set up Finn's new drum set. I'm feeling rather nostalgic about the end of this era, so I thought I'd better document their little dueling ghetto drum sets together one last time. *caution:lower volume if you are at work*
jamming with Tommy
counting with Tommy
The next time I post, there will be a big black monster of a drumset in my house. I will let you know how I feel about that. So far, I feel a sense of impending doom:)