The Teacher

In one of my many Facebook posts a while back, I was describing something amusing that Elliott did, and a friend of mine described him as being very "intense". This is the perfect word for him. He is full of passion about certain things, knows what he likes and is not easily swayed from his beliefs. He has always been like this. And he is a thinker. Since birth he has had this eyebrow thing he does when he looks at things, trying to figure them out. Leyton has it to...but Elliott is so much more....intense.

Yesterday we were hanging out at home after school and Elliott decided to set up a band area with his various band equipment.....and invited us all to join in. He assigned us each to an instrument. Dad got the guitar and then casually announced that he was interested in learning how to play the guitar....

It was as if Elliott's ears perked up like a dog's with the sound of their leash before a walk. He practically jumped out of his chair from behind his (Guitar Hero) drum set and marched over to his father. In a very serious tone and with a purposeful gesture of the arm that my son is famous for, Elliott began teaching his father how to play the guitar.
Elliott is 5 years old. A baby. But he KNOWS how to play the guitar and he has gigs and he is very upset that he did not get a REAL amp for Christmas last year when he was FOUR.

So he picked up the guitar from Dad and put his little foot on the coffee table to begin his lesson. He then said, "well, you will be able to use the whammy bar in a couple of years when you are older". (Meanwhile I am holding back tears and Luke is painfully trying not to laugh).

The lesson went on and soon it was time to start band practice. (Our band apparently is called the Doodees, NOT the Doozees like Grandpa's band that Elliott is in.) I was allowed to be the singer, and was instructed to "sing whatever you want just listen to the music and you will know what to sing". So the guitar and drums started and I began a very energetic, soulful rendition of "I've been working on the railroad".

Unfortunately, I did not fit into Elliott's idea of a "man" band. He did NOT like how I was swinging my hips as I sang. So, I was then assigned to the drums. Dad had to sing because HE knows how to sing man songs, or sing like a man, whatever is more important.

Later I was allowed to try the singing again, but once again failed even after a demonstration from our band instructor. He's tough. I wonder what it's going to be like when he's 15 and ready to start a REAL band. Woah.