And lo, an angel of the Lord said "you are a bunch of damn fools."
For the record, it was Jason's idea.
He maintains it is still a very good idea, and claims he will "never get tired" of listening to the various levels and styles of racket our various children make, because he is all kinds of nurturing and just that good of a dad, and was basically put here on earth to make the rest of us look bad.
Ezra has almost mastered the overhead 1! 2! 1 2 3 4! stick count (before launching into Animal-from-The-Muppets-style drum solos).
Noah prefers to play actual rhythms and to play along with actual music. In this photo he is either jamming to Seven Nation Army, his new ParaNorman DVD, or maybe just some Yule Log channel carols. We had kind of a weird, long morning.
Then there's this one, who can't yet reach the bass drum pedal but isn't going to let that stop him from being adorable in the noisiest way possible.
We just purposely quadrupled the noise level in our house and I now probably have to promise our neighbors that yes, we'll move soon, don't worry, I'm sorry, would you like some fudge stuffed with money in the meantime?
But I don't know. I'm kind of digging the drums.
I'm such a sucker for these boys, it's ridiculous.
PS. NOT KIDDING ABOUT THE FUDGE. IT'S TRIPLE DECKER CHOCOLATE PEANUT BUTTER PRETZEL FUDGE.
AND ALSO SOLID-YET-PLIABLE ENOUGH TO DOUBLE AS EARPLUGS.