Air Bagpipes

Everybody knows I have no musical ability. At all. So last night, I mention to Mr. GG that I might as well learn to play the bagpipes. And he says I can learn to play the bagpipes or I can be married. My choice. I really like being married, but then genius strikes – I can play the air bagpipes. I immediately go into a frenzy of squeezing and manipulating my imaginary bagpipes while humming a squawky rendition of “Amazing Grace”.

I am well accustomed to seeing that pained look on Mr. GG’s face, so I call the baby to inform her of my new invention. And give her a sample of “Amazing Grace”. Little Miss Logic then informs me that playing air instruments is a SILENT endeavor. Well, crap. It is not the same without the squawking. And like her father, she first thought I was talking about some sort of Scottish airbags. I put him on the phone, so she can reassure him, that hell on earth is not going to be orchestrated in our home, and that he owes her. While they are talking, I energetically flap and squeeze and “play” the pipes. Silently. Nowhere near as satisfying. Oh well.