This afternoon we went to Mr Mundey’s music recital. I have always wanted my kids to play a musical instrument because I can’t and I wish I did. It’s the classic parent trap. Forcing your kids to do the things you wish you’d done. But I approach it with the same laissez-faire attitude that I have with everything. Tiger Mother I’m not.

There was a real spirit of having-a-go and nurturing the children’s attempts no matter how good they were. The same respectful applause was given to the boy who laboriously struggled over ten notes on the guitar and the mini-virtuoso whose fingers danced across the keyboard. Mr Mundey caused a little ripple across the room as he looked so striking with his wild mop of hair held back with a bandana and the signature belt around his neck. I said to Danger that his new look is very LA. He could have easily auditioned for Guns and Roses back in ’85. We were proud to hear him play.

While I was listening to all the children playing piano, I got to thinking how kids love to mess around with piano. They just can’t help themselves. It’s the satisfaction of cause and effect and making noise. But more than anything, they love the extremes. The deepest, darkest, doomy keys of the low end and the sparkly, spritely, skittering keys of the high end. They’ll have a little twinkle on the middle keys, but it doesn’t capture their imagination like the highs and lows.