I hate my son

No, I don't hate my son. Please don't call child services.

I love my son. Still, please don't call child services

But I do hate that he no longer takes the bus to school (he now walks, the healthy little so-and-so).

You see, back in the bus riding days, that five or ten minutes spent waiting for the bus, that was Ukulele Time.

A glorious, tiny chunk of time, when the boy was too sleepy for anything else, and we just had to stand around and wait.

I really looked forward to it. I'd have my little practice routine all worked out.

Some days something technical, a scale or a lick.

Some days, working out a song.

(Songs became more popular, because the little sleepyhead would often join in).

But now he walks.

And I've struggled to replace that uke time. It's not that hard to find 5 or 10 minutes, but the ROUTINE was invaluable. KNOWING that at a certain time each day you'll pick up your uke and play just makes things easy.

Can you find a little nugget of time and make it your sacred ukulele time?

It will quickly and vastly help you get better.

Now you can call child services.


Tags


You may also like

Change chords smoothly on ukulele