Parents know best.
Ahem, well maybe parents dream best. At least that is what I have found to be true when I try to fit my kids’ futures in perfect boxes then turn around to see that they have managed to mould the box into a completely different shape.
A perfect example occurred this week when Middle Son went for his beginning band evaluation. We had prepared him to play trumpet like his brother, dad, two uncles and grandfather.
We arrived at the school with our trumpets in hand, and Middle Son demonstrated his trumpet prowess to the band director. Her response?
“You’re going to be a tuba-man.”
Perturbed, I responded from the corner of the room, “Everyone in the family plays trumpet.”
The director smiled and handed Middle Son a trombone, then a baritone, which he played. With her hands on her hips, the director said again, “I really think you’re a tuba-man.”
She hoisted the brass tuba into Middle Son’s lap, having to help hold the behemoth while he blew into the mouthpiece with trumpet lips.
I smiled with satisfaction when the sound of dying geese echoed around the room.
The director instructed him how to loosen his lips and asked him to blow again.
A big, beautiful, deep sound filled the room and my smile fell at the same time Middle Son’s face lit up.
Oh. No.
 “I told you he was a tuba-man. But of course it is still up to you both if he wants to play tuba.”
Of course he can’t play tuba, he has to play trumpet. It’s in his blood!
Then she said, “The tuba is free for the year, it belongs to the school.”
My sweet freckled-cheeked son flashed me a dazzling smile and I… caved. What could I do?
He’s a tuba-man.
Now we just have to tell his dad…

He’ll grow into it right? Right?