Making Music

I love music.

I love listening to music on the radiator (Daddy sometimes serves up Radio 3 along with my cornflakes). I'm always asking Daddy to play "tap-tap" when we get in the car ("tap-tap" is my short-speak for "If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands tap tap").

It's great sitting on Mummy's lap helping her play the piano, sometimes even with my feet. And dancing to Daddy's accordion music is such an exciting way of exercising.

But there is nothing quite like making music ones self. This morning I found that throwing a box with a metal lid onto the floor made a lovely boioioioioioing noise.

"What sort of music is that?" I asked Daddy.

"Experimentalist music, I think" he said.