piano lessons

I always wanted piano lessons when I was a kid. (Every Good Boy Does Fine) And my grandma wanted me to have them. And she had a piano. So I'm not entirely sure why it didn't work out. Maybe because Dad held a grudge against the younger sister who used to rush to "practice" her piano lessons whenever it was time to wash dishes.
Then in fifth grade came my chance to make up for this missed opportunity and join the school band. Deep down I probably wanted to play the clarinet like all the other girls, but I didn't want to look girly or foolish among the cooler females in our class. So I decided to pick something else and landed on an unlikely instrument for our small school: the French horn. I loved its clear pure sound and the gleaming circular shape.
But then Mom had a brainstorm, and I ended up playing the trombone because we already had one. Hung onto and packed away somehow from the days when her older brothers were in school band. I guess in case anybody in the next generation should want to play the piano.