"I need a musical instrument, mommy... so I can make music."
(Thoughts of Julliard begin twirling through my my mind. Julian, child prodigy, musical genious, seated at a piano, or on a stool playing accoustic guitar. In a theatre filled to capacity. All eyes on him. I look at Julian, he looks back at me, very serious expression.)
"Mommy. I need a tuba."