sing us a song, you're the piano man

As long has Sage has been part of this world he has loved music.

When he was first born it was only Johnny Cash himself that could calm him down along with an assortment of 90's Garth Brooks songs and Elton John. He's got quite the old soul for someone who hasn't even had a birthday yet.

My parents have a baby grand piano in their front room, and when we are over visiting Sage will sit on the ground and listen to Kylie play. It's the only time I know he isn't trying to climb into their bathtub or pull down their blinds.

Tonight I was visiting with my mom while she made some no-bake cookies (yummmmm) and I heard the "clinkclinkclink" of the highest keys on the piano from the front room. Sage had found the piano and had figured out how it works. He stayed there, playing his little tippy-toed arrangement, long enough for me to find my keys (which, if you know me, takes awhile) and go to my car to get my camera. He was in love.

So sing us a song,
little Billy Joel,
you're the piano man.