A three year old boy strums on his new guitar, like a cat purring.
He’s been hitting upended pots since he was one. Using any microphone shaped object to sing into since he was two. Now he’s three and the real music can begin.
Performing for his first audience, in his parents’ kitchen his song fills the room with happiness, like a balloon filling with helium.
In twenty years, time he might be a doctor or an astronaut or a teacher or farmer or be playing at Glastonbury, but right now, at the age of three, he’s a rock star.