Jay got a letter from the pastor of our church today."You know, they are still asking you to join the children's chorus," I pointed out as neutrally as someone home schooling her children somewhat on the fly (and who needs to come up with a music curriculum) possibly could.
"The church music director thinks you'd be a real asset to the group. Are you sure you don't want to give it a try?" I continued, trying to maintain that nebulous tone between perky and panicked.
"...and I think you'd be great, too. You've got a wonderful sense of rhythm and a nice voice...it would be a way that you could give back to the community...by being generous with your talents..." (Too much? I'm going for subtle manipulation where the child doesn't realize he is being steamrolled. It's tricky...both of my children initially react to the novel with 'no'. There's a surgically-delicate emotional massage required to get past no to the world of "I'll think about it." If it's not done just right, I get the cognitive-emotional equivalent of the Berlin Wall.)
"I really don't want to mom. I'm shyyyyyyyy," the boy replies. "Church is just going to have to wait until I'm older and my shyness disappears."
Drat.
"Well keep us all posted on that, kay?"
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