🎷Out of My Head Hopelessly Devoted to You🎻
The Harmonica Under the Tree: A Cautionary Tale Every year, around this time, well-meaning aunts, uncles, and grandparents across the nation have the same thought: This is the year I become the cool relative . And every year, that thought leads directly to the music store, where a shiny harmonica sits in a little velvet-lined box, looking like the gateway to a lifetime of blues riffs and campfire singalongs. I know this because I've been that mom. I've stood in the checkout line, harmonica in hand, already imagining my son's face lighting up. I pictured him at eighteen, thanking me in his graduation speech for sparking his musical journey. What I did not picture was the harmonica living in a junk drawer by February, nestled between dead batteries and a broken game controller. Here's what happens when you gift a child an instrument they didn't ask for: nothing . Or worse, something . In my case, the harmonica begat a xylophone the following Christmas. Th...