Hide the tools, batten down the hatches…

So…foolishly, it would seem…I assumed that I’d have a few years before the boy started actively trying to take things apart…also, I didn’t realize that at 19 months babies had already figured out some semblence of right vs. wrong. It would appear that I was wrong on both counts.

Some background…the primary driving force in my sound system is an ancient Kenwood club amp. It’s a monster. Big, heavy, hot…but capable of running lots of speakers at very high volume. Not that I get to listen to loud music anymore…but I did spend more than a decade doing so with this amp driving my Infinities. The boy loves, loves, loves, music. Wants to dance all the time. Insists that the stereo be turned on if he’s downstairs. (You should see him do his Ramones Bop…oh, so adorable…)

So after breakfast, he starts doing the sign for *dance! DANCE!* and bopping around the dining room. I put one of his cds into the player and wandered into the kitchen to clean up. I’m merrily doing dishes and wiping counters when there is this overwhelming silence that decends as the music suddenly stops. Theoretically, the stereo is behind glass, and thus he shouldn’t have been able to turn it off…and I didn’t hear the distinct *clink* sound that occurs when the door is closed.

“Hmmm,” I thought. “that’s odd.” Drying my hands I walked into the dining room where the main components are. (It’s a long story as to why they are there…but acoustically it works better…or so the sound guys tell me. I dunno.) The boy is standing a few feet away from the system and making outraged noises that the music has stopped. So, I assumed he had nothing to do with said stoppage and that something had probably gone wrong either with the wiring because he moves the speakers, or hardware failure.

So, I’m looking all over the place trying to find the problem. Following wires from the back of the sets to all the speakers, checking the sound levels on each speaker, twiddling with connections…nothing. I can see that the CD player is still playing…but no sound. Then I notice that the amp lights aren’t on. With a heavy heart, knowing that I’ve probably lost my beloved amp of many memories, I open up the cabinet to twiddle with the amp. (Much like how men who don’t know anything about cars will still raise the hood of the car and check the oil after the car dies…)

It was then that I realized that I couldn’t press the power button on the amp…because the power button was missing. I look at the boy and say “Sweetie, do you know where the button that goes here is?” And he looked at me and shook his head vigerously “NO!” “Are you sure? I’m not going to be mad…but if you know where the button is, Mommy needs it so she can make the music come back.”

Damned if he didn’t walk over to my sewing machine, open a drawer and get the button out and bring it to me. So, not only did he figure out how to pry the buttons off a Kenwood…which are nigh onto indestructible, he somehow got the button, powered off the amp, realized that he’d probably done a bad thing, closed the glass door, opened a sewing drawer, hid the button and closed the drawer, and got a “how dare the music stop” game face on…all before I could turn off the water, dry my hands and walk the 20-30 feet from the sink into the dining room.

He’s curious, he’s clever, and he’s fast. That’s my boy. :)

(He did get the “don’t touch Mommy’s stereo lecture. I expect him to pay about as much attention to my directives as I did to my parent’s. Karma…whaddya gonna do?)

Thus, today was not the day the music died. Just the day the music took a little dirt nap.

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