Play that Funky Music, My Girls

"Hi Daddy, I went to the music store."

"Right on, Honey."

Because Bea's kind of digging the violin, something I just learned while away this week. And so it begins...which would be fantastic if she really wants to learn how to play. Thank you Little Einsteins, because the Mama and me play rock, pop, classic disco, soul and R&B, baby. Sometimes cool kid music too, but never classical. Do the Star Wars soundtracks count? What about that funky Meco version?

No? Well, that's all right. There's a musicality in our B-hive that's upbeat, elevating and moves our hearts and souls; both Bea and Bryce bang on the life drum all day and those sounds meter my longing for home.

And that's why it's especially poignant when I miss it all, going from 0 to 60 mph this last month with work travel again, relegated to phone calls and FaceTime. But the sweeping crescendos are no less powerful when I hear:

"Love you, Daddy! Are you flying on an airplane?"

Yes, my sweet B's, I'm flying home for a jam session with you both and the Mama (and Nonna, too).

Play that funky music, my girls.