Baby beat box in the howwwwse

I knew it would happen eventually, and in a way, I'm glad. My son has turned into a baby beat box.

Why, do you ask, does this make me happy? Because despite all Mark's protests and railing against drum practice, it's sticking. The lessons, the knowledge, the joy of percussion -- Mark's got it.

I remember my brother Tim and my cousin Michael as boys. They played drums, and they couldn't walk by any surface (including our heads) without drumming on it -- with their fingers, with their drumsticks, with pencils, with whatever. It was a constant beat, a constant movement and noise, and at the time, a constant irritation. (Then again, everything my brothers did when we were kids was annoying!)

But now, as an adult, it makes me smile. Mark's drum lessons aren't just torture any more, he's actually starting to enjoy and retain the information, and the evidence is -- you guessed it -- a constant drumming.

Which is the good news. The bad news, as I mentioned, is the constant drumming on everything, and now, the beat boxing.

It started yesterday as I was getting ready for work. I could hear him dancing down the hallway, grunting and making all sorts of noises. "Boom ba, boom boom ba, boom ba, boom boom ba, eee eee eee eee!" was what it sounded like, but at least he had a pretty good beat going. The boy's got rhythm.

The sounds quieted a bit, and I figured he was getting dressed. Soon enough, they grew loud again, and then louder still, and as I brushed my hair, I realized he was very close. As in, on the other side of the bathroom door, beatboxing his little heart out. I just listened to him and smiled.

Finally, I could stand it no longer. I opened the door, and there he was, not only beatboxing, but dancing as well.

"Yo yo yo yo, Mama!" he sang, throwing his hands in the air. "Boom, boom, POW!"

I couldn't help it, I cracked up. "Yo, MC Marky Mark, go make your bed!" I told him, and he danced off toward his room.

"Boom boom BA!" he replied. I watched him pull the comforter across his bed as he sang out, "Wiki wiki wiki wik!"

And then the littlest human beat box collected his backpack and headed off to third grade.

Never a dull moment in my house, I tell ya!