Mum I have broken my...

[woolymonkey]

When you're worried about the accident prone Spidermonkey you sent off to Norfolk with suspected glandular fever and a friend who's re-engineered his lighter as a flame thrower, you do not want to be called out of the shower by the phone ringing. Especially not for a mechanically-voiced SMS message that begins, 'Mum, I have broken my...'

After a brief pause to allow me to succumb to heart failure, undergo CPR, and recover my sense of hearing, the message continues:
'...trumpet. Please bring my old cornet when you come to the performance. Squirrelmonkey.'

I'm still shaky from shock, but as I get dressed and rush over to school with the old cornet, am I the only one wondering, how the fuck did that happen?!?!

Comments

[ladymoonray.livejournal.com]

ROFL! I did some fairly horrendous things with my instruments, and I once dropped my Dad's bass clarinet and broke it horribly, but I don't think I ever got a pencil stuck in one :)

[woolymonkey.livejournal.com]

Some little sod once rammed the mouthpiece of Squirrel's cornet into the bell. Luckily, the brass teacher was able to get it out in the end.

The 'breakage' turns out to be recurrence of an old problem. One of the valves tends to stick ever since he dropped the trumpet on the floor. (Note to Older Son: never hold your euphonium by the mouthpiece, even when it's on your lap!) We hire the trumpet from the county music service, who are stars and will fix it for free, or just a small charge. Just as long as he promises not to drop it again...