Evan has a love/hate relationship with music class. He loves it because it isn't "real school" and he hates it because "it's music class." We have heard complaints about music class from day one, and I have often prayed on music days, "Lord, let Evan and the music teacher leave class unscarred today." It is truly that bad. Wes and I said just this week that he is so practical that he can find little value in anything that won't sustain life or improve his athletic skills. Therefore, he sees little purpose in learning the notes of Hot Cross Buns.
When he told me he had to learn the recorder in music class, I cringed. Loud noises and I don't mix. Then he came home with a folder full of sheet music and I prayed he would never find that recorder that was in his Easter basket last spring, the one I bought when I temporarily forgot my aversion to loud noises.
Today, though, he searched long and hard until he found it. And then he started to play. I was so impressed! I really tried to play up the success of the patio concert, but he said, "Don't get too excited, Mom. The recorder is as far as I will take this music thing."
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