My son is going into sixth grade next fall.  This is the grade where they stop giving out treats when they’ve had a “good” day, and the students are now allowed to pick the “special classes” they want to take.  Their choices are pretty limited, but I guess it makes them happy to be able to choose what they will be doing while they’re at a place where they’d rather not be.

My son’s choice surprised me, though.  He wanted to take music.  Music never interested him before.  Maybe because music provided him with yet another choice:  which instrument he wanted to play.  He could’ve picked any instrument, but the one he picked was drums.  Ugh!

My older son took music as well, but he learned trombone.  Now that he’s out of high school, though, he’s never picked up another trombone to play.  So I knew that we had that trombone lying around somewhere.  I suggested to the ten-year old that he might want to learn the trombone also.  I know I was being a tiny bit selfish because I really didn’t want to buy another instrument that would be left lying around the house in a few years, especially a drum set.  Those tend to take up some space.        

I tried, I really tried, to talk that boy into learning trombone.  Unfortunately, his decision to play drums was the only thing he’d ever truly been committed to in his short life.  Why did he have to start now?  With this particular decision?  I mean, we’ve already got a trombone; it would have been perfect!  Oh well, maybe my daughter would choose to play a trombone when it comes time for her to pick an instrument.

We went to the meeting where the child would have to sign up for the instrument he intended to learn.  When we got there, however, we noticed that “drums” were not on the list of things to choose from.  I thought, “Well, this is a good thing, right?”

My son asked the band teacher where the sign-up sheet for drums was.  She answered with the sweetest words I ever heard.  “If you want to play drums, you must choose trombone now and audition in the fall for drums.  Those who do well at trombone will be the ones considered for drums.  Those who do not,  will play trombone the rest of the year.”

Yes!  Dismissing the fact that she obviously didn’t feel the need  to have a terrific trombone section, her decree meant I wouldn’t have to buy a set of drums; unless, by some miracle, he is still interested enough in drums by the fall to do well at the trombone (which is still a confusing concept).  I really thought that, given his attention span for most other things, his interest would wane by that time.

I consoled him on the way home and told him, that he still stood a chance to play drums if he did what the teacher said.  He nodded but didn’t say anything.  He was clearly upset.

When we got home, I started my search for the trombone.  By the end of the day, I still had no trombone.  I called my older son and asked him where it was.  He answered with the ugliest words I ever heard:
“We sold it in the garage sale last summer, mom.” 

Do you remember that scene where Daffy Duck slaps his hand onto his forehead and then slides it down his face?  Yeah, that was me.

I got my son drum lessons.

Laura Snyder

You can reach Laura at lsnyder@lauraonlife.com Or visit her website www.lauraonlife.com for more columns and info about her new book.