Why some days I wish I drank

The one downside to the school district we're in is that they don't start band until 6th grade. We didn't want Ben to be behind, so he's taking private clarinet lessons from a friend of ours. On the bright side, he really loves it, more so than the cello last year.

On the downside, this fills the house for hours every evening:

(The picture is just his door. It's the sound you want for this.)





And when I'm not hearing that, I'm hearing this:




Thanks, mom.

My mother bought that for Liam last Christmas. She also bought one for my nephew, Aiden. Aiden's was opened and assembled Christmas day. Within an hour the kids went from playing to beating each other senselessly with the mallet. So, Liam's stayed in the box. When we got home from my mother's house, it "accidentally" got put in the storage room at the back of the garage.

When we moved it got discovered again, and now I hear that stupid music and the incessant whacking constantly.


And when I'm not buryng my head under a pillow to drown out the noises of the kids, I'm worrying about what harm they may be inflicting on each other.

10 minutes ago I looked out the back door to see this happening:




Luckily there were no lasting injuries. Poor Amelia. She always seems to take the brunt of her brothers' antics.