At the piano showroom.

Day off from school. We went to the posh Galleria mall to play pianos. The tinny microphone on my cell phone can't translate the sound of this instrument, the dealership's premier Steinway, nor can you see the old man sitting at a table just outside the open door. He lowered his newspaper and gave me a thumbs up through the window while Ezra played. You can't see the other silvery couple walking by who stopped to listen. I couldn't quite get a breath in---it wasn't just watching my son play---it was hearing the music, and then putting it together with the knowledge it was him playing it. I know not every note is perfect yet. But I'm not just a proud dad. If you were there you would've felt it too, like the old people did.