It’s breakfast time. For once, the children are actually eating their food, rather than just re-decorating the kitchen with it. Start The Week is counteracting the coffee I’ve just drunk, so Radio 4 is jettisoned in favour of 6-Music. The Stone Roses pay me instant dividends with I Wanna Be Adored and I do what I often do whilst listening to music in the comfort of my own home – I start air-drumming.
I catch a peripheral movement and turn around to find my youngest daughter, also air drumming. That is to say, she is mainly waving her arms, a gesture which more normally means she wants the sippy cup. But she’s in time with the beat, her eyes are locked onto mine and her mouth is curled into a grin. She’s feeling it.
Suddenly, imaginary snare-drums and high-hats are no longer enough. As the ‘Roses take it to the bridge, I let fly, hammering invisible crash cymbals. The one year-old follows me enthusiastically. For an instant, our connection is absolute.
It’s at this point that my eldest daughter decides to hit a crash cymbal of her own:
“Are we listening to Old MacDonald, Daddy?”
This comment rather breaks the spell. I lower my hands.
“No, Sweetheart, it’s…. “
I look from elder back to younger. She’s still waving – only now she is staring at the sippy-cup.
She really is thirsty. And I really am a man stood in a kitchen waggling his hands about, while his daughters – who discern no difference between a Stone Roses classic and ‘Old MacDonald Had a Farm‘ – look on in bemusement.
For the remainder of the record, I restrict myself to air bass guitar.