|Pascoe, Nigel and Nick with kazoos|
Lying around on my kitchen surface has been a pink kazoo.
Seems wrong to chuck it out, especially after all it has taught me.
At the Greenbelt Festival, Sunday morning communion was run by twenty children and the Archbishop of Canterbury. Thrown into the mix were several thousand kazoos to help out with the hymns.
Confidently I put the narrow end to my mouth and tooted. Nigel shook his head at me.
I ignored him. After raising three children and presiding at many kids’ parties and school events I was confident that my kazoo technique was superior to his.
Nigel had the broad end in his mouth – Loser.
Then Jennie nudged me and pointed at the hymn sheet. There, in black and white were instructions for the use of a kazoo.
It said to hum down the broad end. My reaction was that the leaflet writer had it all wrong. But I was surrounded by thousands of people, all blowing down the broad end.
Was I a lone voice of sanity; was everybody else right, or were they merely acting as mindless sheep?
And more hauntingly –
How many other areas are there in my life where I am heedlessly blowing down the wrong end of the kazoo?