An aversion to inconveniencing others is deeply imbedded in my personality. Particularly when it comes to noise. I don’t want to impinge on other peoples’ right to quiet, and I agonize over what I feel is too much noise being made, and this always comes to the fore when kids and neighbors come together.

We have a neighbor downstairs. She rents from us. We are her landlords (a word that sounds to me like a medieval Scottish claymore wielding feudal skull thumper), and she is our vassal, er, renter. Nonetheless, I am acutely aware of each bump and thump the boys make. And they make plenty.

We have tried to get them to be quiet, but even well behaved two and three year old boys cannot help but make noise. They run, jump, play and drop things constantly. I’ve tried correcting them in a steady stream of   “Jacob! No! Toby! No!”, but after a while it just stresses me out, and it doesn’t help. And I know it sounds like a godawful racket downstairs. At seven in the morning.

Toby loves the Backyardigans, a cartoon featuring a kid who pretends to be the Yeti of the North by stomping and singing, “Stomp! Stomp! Stomp!” It is surprisingly difficult to dissuade a two year old from doing this first thing in the morning.

Stephanie’s sister Jennifer has come to stay with us for about a week to visit and to help in whatever way she can with the boys and with Sarah. We are glad to have her, to help and to visit. She has also brought her two year old son, Owen. Cousin Owen to Jacob and Toby. The only thing louder and more rambunctious than two little boys is three little boys.

The boys all love playing together, when they are not fighting over toys or crying over toys lost in said fights. One afternoon this week they pulled out the box containing Jacob and Toby’s collection of percussion instruments and had a bang up good time. Three boys (and later, dad joining in) banging on a variety of drums, cowbell, tambourines, maracas, and symbols can make some big noise.

I shuddered at the thought of how all of this sounded, but a rockin’ session of world beat banging with abandon is not to be passed up. We all enjoyed a good fifteen minutes of riotous banging, stomping, clanging and shouting. It was a cacophonous good time. (Sorry Katherine!)