Violins

I’d forgotten how many forms kids bring home during the first day of school. Mini Me’s stack looks bigger than last year. The papers all ask for the same thing; they’re just different colors. Parents names. Contact information. Emergency contact information. Food allergies. Backup emergency contacts. I still don’t understand why the office can’t take one form I complete and copy it as needed. Or better yet, couldn’t this stuff be online?

Sorry, I digress.

One of the papers was for a violin program. Students who participate will take two weekly violin lessons during school hours, and there will be two evening concerts.

I have a soft spot for the violin. When I was in the fifth grade, I asked my parents if I could play. I convinced them to meet with the music teacher for details. The instrument expense, combined with their open disdain for extracurricular activities, kept my hopes at bay.

Not wanting to live vicariously through my kid, I asked Mini Me for her take.

“I’d like to try it,” she grinned.

I mentioned the program to Momma and said that I planned on letting Mini Me join.

“Sounds good,” she said.

Say what?

I reminded her I wanted to play violin. I told her how she and Daddy tag teamed me with a slew of reasons why violin lessons were a bad idea.

“Didn’t you want to play the xylophone?” she asked.

“No, the violin,” I said.  “Would you have let me play the xylophone?”

“Hmm. I don’t remember this at all, ” Momma said.

I am well aware of the fact that she didn’t answer the question.

The smallest moments from childhood affect how you parent. I wasn’t distraught about not playing violin, but I think of it whenever Mini Me wants to try something new. I remind myself that this is her time for exploration. Hubby and I want to expose her to a variety of experiences.

I’m not sure if Mini Me will take to the violin, but I do know this will make for a very noisy school year. Anybody know where I can get earplugs wholesale?

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