In fact, he is pretty much a one-man band. He has a keyboard, drums, a guitar, a microphone, a dad who loves music and plays back up, and uber cool software that records their musical efforts.
Noah also has a harmonica. It is his prized possession. He takes it everywhere and is happy to play it for you anytime. Even in the car. In the middle of the night. In the middle of Kansas.
So, when we were in Oklahoma over the 4th, that beloved spit magnet came along. And Noah got it into his head that he wanted to play his harmonica for the cows that live at the end of the street.
I figured this could be a fairly memorable adventure so he and I took off down the road, harmonica in hand.
When we arrived, it was evident that the cows had indeed found greener pastures elsewhere.
But that didn't stop him. He just figured the louder he played, the better chance the cows would have of hearing him.
He did have a point.
So he played...
But yet, no cows.
Apparently they don't like harmonicas.
So then he just started walking around, sometimes playing, sometimes singing.
He even tried it hands-free.
At this point it really didn't matter because all of it sounded exactly the same.
After a while, the Oklahoma sun got to him and he needed to sit down and play, still hoping that those snobby cows would come back from their snobby little pasture.
And eventually, he stopped playing altogether, completely disgusted with cows in general.
Finally, he got up and said, "I don't care about cows anymore. Let's go back and swim."
I told him it sounded like a great idea.
Until he asked me to carry him the rest of the way home. Apparently serenading snobby cows takes it out of you.
Right in my ear.
And that's when I realized that the cows knew exactly what they were doing.