Laugh

I got your first consistent laugh out of you this week, with a simple though lengthy game of peek-a-boo. You laughed so hard, you almost cried (tiredness, I guess). I have had trouble obtaining the same result for a similar performance though, son.

Rock's Playlist

Like most parents of our class and aspirations, we have taken the "it can't hurt" approach to the urban legend that classical music, especially that of Mozart, improves your intelligence and the Deutsche Grammophon CDs I bought when a pretentious student are being played (from a hard drive) more than they ever were in my flat in Hulme in the early nineties.
The symphonies, concertos and occasional opera are being supplemented by the sort of rock I listen to and so you will no doubt get used to the sound of Nirvana, Kings of Leon, Amy Winehouse (who died the day you were born) and a myriad of other talents. I sing "Lithium" to you more than any other song but mostly recite poetry (I learned If and This be the verse after your birth and am intending to learn one or two a month for the foreseeable future).
I never learned to play a musical instrument but I hope that you will, son.