Holy Mother of Adorableness.
My two little ones each have a set of bongos, among other various instruments. They sit on the living room floor and beat those things like they each have six arms and have been mainlining coffee. They can actually drown out our guitar and bass. Their volume without amplification is impressive. Sometimes, just for the sheer joy of sweet torture, one will hold a recorder in their mouth and blow into it open while still banging on the bongos. Then the Death Wish Dog hears us start his song and comes out of his sleep spot on my bed to do his backing vocal duties. Sometimes the other three join in too, but he never misses his song.
