I have probably mentioned before that Sam and I go weekly to Mother Goose on the Loose at the local library. It's a program for babies under 2 years old that involves some reading, hand games, rhymes, etc. Sam loves Mother Goose on the Loose, but in a very quiet and reserved way. Much unlike his behavior at home, he curls up in my lap and observes the action with absolutely no expression whatsoever. Once we get home, though, he always enjoys duplicating the activities we learn. The one thing he does not like is drum time.
Drum time is when Donna, our leader, brings out her drum and sings a little song: "My name is Donna. What's your name?" Then she goes around the circle and lets each child beat his or her name on the drum. Since the first day Donna brought out the drum, Sam has equated it with all that is contagious, disfiguring, and possibly apocalyptic in this world. We couldn't get him to beat his name for anything.
In desperation, I bought a toy drum for Sam and for months, I'd practice with him. Without fail, when I sang "My name is Mommy. What's your name?" Sam would hit the drum with abandon. But at Mother Goose on the Loose? Nothing.
But then today, with no assistance or prompting from me, Donna asked Sam his name and he whapped the drum with abandon.
It seems like a little thing to be excited about, but I feel like celebrating anyway.