“It’s a beauty,” said Grandpa Frank. “Go ahead and play it, Erik.”
Erik had no intention of following the request. “Wow, no, I couldn’t play your old horn. I’m no good,” Erik tried to deflect. He was terrified of what tetanus in the mouth would look like.
Grandpa urged again, egging on the grandson to give the horn a chance. Erik reluctantly drew the horn upward.
Grandpa Frank slapped his head. “You do everything people tell you? Don’t be silly. This thing needs to be melted down.”
Erik couldn’t agree more.