Stumbled out of bed, realized I was late, got dressed, padded into my son's room and woke him up. The little guy whined about going to school. He wanted to stay home. I have seen him in these moods many times before, and it is like riding out a small storm. Stay the course, be patient, fend off any sneaky gusts or waves of self-pity, and things will be just fine.

We are about to head down the stairs. A new whiny fit begins at having to head to the car, when I pull out my secret weapon for my son's blue funk - the Godfather of Soul!

"C'mon, little man," I say. "We've got the James Brown tape in the car."

The whines subside. Self-pity falls away. And soon we are in a mad dash for the car, because my son cannot fathom being in the car now without hearing James Brown's 20 Greatest Hits. We were still a tad late for school, but if it weren't for "I Got The Feeling" and "Mother Popcorn", we'd have been much later.

Excuse me while I jump back and wanna kiss myself...

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I must say that the little guy is getting much more interested in music these days. He likes hearing John Mayer's "Waiting On The World To Change", the Jack Johnson "Curious George" soundtrack, the CD my husband and I sang on when we were members of the Jewish People's Philharmonic Chorus , the "Cars" soundtrack, the double album of Chuck Berry hits I have, Fats Domino, some Bobby Lounge, most jazz music...the list just keeps on growing. He also loves to come to band rehearsals and performances involving my husband, who plays the clarinet and the bass clarinet. And of course he loves to bang on our various pots and pans in time to what ever music he hears, whether we are playing some or not.

It is now a constant refrain in our house when Daddy has to head off to perform or practice: "Mommy, I want to go see Daddy play the clarinet."

Our constant joke is that with all the music the kid has been exposed to in his little life thus far, he'll grow to be a tone-deaf jock.

At this point, if he does go that way, he'll have to will himself into tone-deafness, because he sings on key very well, if I do say so myself, and he can get a song down after only a couple of times hearing it - the melody, that is. The lyrics are a different matter. His very first lyrical twist appeared to us when he was dancing in circles at two years of age, singing, "Max and Rosie, Max and Rosie..." over and over again. Dan and I wondered if we had given birth to a little yenta who had already made a match between two kids in his preschool, until the little guy finally did an "All fall DOWN!" and plopped on the floor with a big grin.

Once the kid tries to sneak into some local clubs around these parts, the whole lyrics thing will either get better or worse depending on which bands he likes to take in the most (hell, some adults still struggle with the lyrics of many popular tunes and such) . Until then he will just have to settle for the places where Daddy performs with the band, with the few clubs we can actually take kids to around here, and with recorded music.

Rough life, huh?