Recorders are the gateway instrument. Then they graduate to violins, flutes, and if you are cursed by whatever god you pray to for solace— trumpets.
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Needs to automatically add “ERR-OR. ERR-OR. Beep boop” after all these answers.
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Kiddo skipped the recorder. Her progression was piano to violin. A neighbor plays trumpet and flugelhorn. Music practice time is fun on my street.
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Me, too! And I can say with first person experience that the violin poorly played is similar to fingernails on a chalkboard. 
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If you are an aunt or uncle, your best course of action is to buy drums for all your nieces and nephews.
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We played recorders in like 2nd grade.
When it came time to join band around 3rd grade, mom asked what instrument I wanted to play. I said, “I wanna play the tommy gun!” in a perfect Godfather voice, followed by an imitation of machine gun fire with the same voice. She was surprised and amused, and asked again.
“The tuba!” She said it’s too big and takes too much air for a little girl.
“I’d really like to learn how to play the guitar,” but she told me guitar wasn’t offered. “Then I don’t want to be in the band,” I said, and so I was not.
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There is a neighbour a couple of blocks away who rehearses his trombone in his apartment, with the windows open.
I do have two neighbours close by (who have never met each other) who play trumpet; one is in a jazz band, and the other often has other musicians over to rehearse, so I’ve been treated to a Baroque aria with a soprano, and string quartets rehearsing. Since they are very good, I open the windows and enjoy.
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I played the recorder in grade school, but that was the end of my musical career.
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Best supershort short story ever. (“Tragedy” category)
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“Child’s recorder for sale, used.”
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I should have learned to play something. I have a fair voice, and suffer from perfect pitch. Subjecting people to an instrument would be preferable to my voice, tho it is tolerable.
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I have trouble carrying a tune, although I can hear music just fine. When I was a children’s librarian, I’d ask the moms to sing along to London Bridge is Falling Down in Toddler Time, to help me.
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Also on a related subject.
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When I lived in NYC, there was an obviously professional trumpet player with a window in my air shaft. Every weekday at 1:00pm he practiced for an hour. You could set your clock by it. And so, it was possible to plan around, and just like your neighbor this trumpeter was excellent, so it was a value-added aspect to my life.
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