Buddy, Don't You Backtalk Me!

I can picture the scene now: Little Buddy pelts out through the porch, the screen-door slamming behind him on rusty hinges. Suddenly he hears his mother's shrill voice pierce the air:

"Buddy, did you practice your harmonica? You know you can't go play with your friends until you've practiced!"

"Aw, Ma, do I have to? None of my friends have to practice the harmonica. And Billy says that the mouth harp is only for old fogies."

She comes and peers at him through the screen door with piercing eyes.

"Don't you backtalk me, boy! You know you'll never get to play Carnegie Hall if you don't practice. Now, git!" as she swats his backside with her wooden spoon on the way by.

Well, chances are, it didn't go down like that.

But I bet you never thought you'd see a harmonica player bringing down the house at Carnegie Hall, either.