This afternoon my boys were both advertising their ambitions on their t-shirts.
Here's George in his RAF t-shirt. He's planning to join up after he has done his A levels. He wants to be a pilot of course, but his back-up plan is to fix planes if he can't fly them.
'What does RLRRLRLL mean Tom?'
'Right left right right left right left left'
'OK, but what does that mean?'
'It's a paradiddle'
'It's a drum rudiment. There are 40, there are flams, dragadiddles, ratamacues and pataflaflas. I can't do pataflaflas though.'
'I can see why you like drumming.'
Tom has drum lessons at school. We acquired a drum kit from a colleague of Charlie's who wanted £25 for it. We couldn't turn it down at that price. It's pretty ropey but Tom is gradually upgrading it. He's been saving for the last few months to buy this new cymbal.
'Who's the best drummer Tom?'
'Apart from you'
'Not John Bonham? Does dad know you don't think John Bonham is the greatest drummer in the world?'
'Don't tell him'
'When you are a famous drummer you won't do anything stupid will you?'
'Like putting explosives in toilets, or driving your Rolls into a swimming pool or dying young of drink, drugs or a combination of the two. Please?'
'No mum, I'm going to be a sensible drummer'.
'That's alright then'.