It's Hot....Play the Ukulele

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A few years ago, after listening to too much Ingrid Michaelson, I decided I wanted to learn to play ukulele.  At the time, we were trying to get pregnant, it was the start of the holiday season, and I think I was having Rockwelllian visions of us all sitting around singing Christmas carols.  

Because he is mostly fond of me, Sweet Husband did the necessary research and presented me with a pretty little uke for my birthday.

What you have to understand is, I played instruments (flute and bass guitar--what a combo!) for about ten years of my life.  How hard could it be to pick up another one, right?  

I did not count on the fact that I hadn't looked at a piece of music since my junior year of college.  The frustration of having to re-learn things that I felt like I should know, plus the fact that I have too many hobbies anyway, led to my uke quickly becoming more ornamental than instrumental.

Enter Eddie Vedder.  My Nice-Sister-In-Law burned me a copy of his latest CD--very originally entitled, Ukulele Songs.  I think it's great, but you know who loves it even more?  The Kid.

Not even kidding a little bit.  We were driving him to daycare the other morning, and he got a little fussy in the back seat.  Sweet Husband started to fret, and I was all like, "Watch this!" as I turned up Eddie Vedder.  Instant calm!  It's voo-doo-y.

Then, Saturday afternoon, the Kid was feeling particularly witchy and wouldn't nap.  I was getting a bit desperate, so--thinking of Eddie--I pulled down the uke and slowly...painfully...pecked out the notes to the Kid's favorite song--There Was An Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly.  

The crazy part was, it worked!  He drifted off to sleep for a few minutes (which was complete victory at that point) and I kept practicing.  Then Sweet Husband came home and, with some help from Ukulele Mike, started playing around with it too.  

It's taken us a bit to get around to it, but I think before long we may be a house full of ukulele players.  

And my idyllic vision?  Well, it's not Jingle Bells (yet), but when I came downstairs Monday morning Sweet Husband and the Kid were sitting at the breakfast table--the former practicing the riff for Wipe Out, the later giggling and cooing at his new favorite entertainment.