My mom is kind-of a genius. When it comes to kids, or music, or kids-and-music, she’s up there at the top of her game. So when she heard that Quitter Son wanted to be done with the guitar, she swooped in to the rescue.
“Ok, I’ll tell you what we’re going to do. We’re going to just switch his strings to nylon ones instead of steel for now,” she said.
Oh, of course. Easy. Except that I didn’t think that was possible. (These moments separate the solution finders from the I-guess-the-answer-is-no people. Guess which category I fit in to?)
I’m so thankful for the people who say, There’s got to be a way out of this situation. The ideas people. My mom is one of those people. Husband is too. I, on the other hand, fight a slow, lingering sense of fate. You know, like the song ‘Que Sera, Sera’ only it doesn’t sound as cheerful in my head as when Doris Day sings it.
The upshot of all this is that QS will continue learning to play the guitar, I will be happy that we kept going with it, and my mother will have proven–once again–why she is flat-out able to get things done.
Viva la difference!