Sarah informed me the other day that she's a country girl. So, maybe that's why my brother-in-law and his family sent her a pink acoustic guitar for her birthday. Like, the real deal.
When we got it, we'd already had about 2 weeks of birthday celebrating and stuff trickling in, so Sarah had gotten used to thinking her birthday was sort of like the Bicentennial. You know, it's celebrated for an entire year.
Anyway, I put the guitar in the coat closet and didn't tell her about it until I formulated a plan. See, one of Will's alter-egos is "Rockstar Will", complete with a lot of squinting, jumps, and pretending to play "Smoke on the Water". Combine that with his talent for loving completely and overwhelmingly (until he breaks stuff), and you have a recipe for guitar-related disaster that even Nirvana couldn't top.
Finally, we busted out the beautiful gift one night after bath. Mike's presence ensured man-to-man coverage, and we discussed the rules for guitar worship
Rule #1: No tackling the guitar.
Rule #2: Take turns, but remember it's Sarah's guitar.
Rule #3: No tackling the guitar player.
Rule #4: Strum the guitar like you're petting a boa constrictor - veeeeeery gently.
The instrument is still in one piece, so I'd say the meet-and-greet was a success.