Have you ever realized that moment when everything was fine and then it suddenly wasn’t.
And then you spent an hour calming youself down and then you were okay, you were cool, chill and all that.
And then Mom called and let you know that the trumpet that needs to be taken to the fix-it shop wasn’t just Great Granny’s trumpet but either Great Great Grampa’s or Great Great Great Grampa’s trumpet.
“And that’s when you realized you were turning into Dad, wasn’t it?” my brother asked us today.
Yes. The answer was yes.
The trumpet’s okay, but only someone who knows what she’s doing is allowed to touch that antique now and we’re all very greatful that our younger sister has a newer-ish trumpet that she’s willing to let our nephew borrow for band. (And also that it’s mouthpiece doesn’t jam every single time you put it in the lead pipe.)