Neverending Top Ten #3.5: Whistle Down The Wind

 

"When I get older, I'm gonna be in the Olympics," Sam announced the other day.

"Oh yeah," said his mum. "What are you going to do?"

"Running..." he replied, and then gave it another thought, "or hopping."

Why isn't hopping in the Olympics, anyway? Is it because 7 year olds would win?

As long as it's not whistling.

A few weeks back, after many failed attempts, Sam taught himself to whistle. This was just prior to him losing the second of his front teeth, so now he has a huge gap in the centre of his mouth... but that hasn't stopped the whistling. He whistles all the time, tunelessly, celebrating this new adult pursuit... it's got to the point he doesn't even realise he's doing it anymore.

We, his tortured parents, we realise though. Yes, we realise we should be celebrating this latest stage of him growing up, but all day, every day... from before it gets light in the morning to long after the sun has been whistled off over the horizon... especially in lockdown... it's all getting a bit much for our already frazzled nerves.

"Sam - STOP Whistling!"

It's like living with a three foot six Roger Whittaker.

I was going to say "a slightly less tuneful Roger Whittaker", until I listened to this again... and actually, Sam's pretty much there.