Creative Genius?

Freestone, the kid I sometimes call Mr. Contrary, is always busy inventing ways to get out of guitar practicing. He doesn't go with the standard, "I don't want to," or "I'm too tired." His methods are far more advanced than that, albeit no more effective. He has yet to come up with an excuse so good, it actually gets him out of practicing. But he's still working on it. It began one lesson day when I told him to get in the car for guitar. He said, "Oh, I quit guitar. See ya!" Nice try. He tried the same trick week after week. Points for determination, but it wasn't going to work.

One day, Free started sitting on his guitar stool in front of the music stand and tapping out rhythms on the music stand. OK...He did it faithfully for a few days before letting me in on the fact that the music stand was his new instrument, and he was practicing it, so would I please be quiet. He was upset when I got out the guitar and told him he now had two instruments. His next endeavor was the bath-toy-penny-whistle, a career that was mercifully short-lived. Free walked around the house sliding up and down the scale on this plastic whistle until I grabbed it out of his mouth and threw it into the gully, overcome by annoyance. Freestone was sad about his penny whistle future being destroyed in such an undignified way.

Soon after that, however, he came home from school with a new instrument, the Paper Plate "Houka-laylee." It was great for me because the rubber band strings didn't make a lot of noise. So I let Free play it all day until it was time to practice guitar. He does practice every day. Sometimes he even does a good job. Recently, Free poked his finger in my eye when I gave him a "good job" hug. Instead of throwing him into the gully, I walked away. From the next room, I heard the guilt-ridden strains of Freestone's guitar, playing his song perfectly, a feat he can't seem to accomplish when I'm present. It was his apology for blinding me in my right eye, and it worked. I've never heard a more heart-felt "Sorry, Mom." When words fail, music speaks, right?

I told Freestone's guitar teacher yesterday that I heard Freestone play his song perfectly. Free quickly countered with, "No I didn't!" So if you see Freestone, don't tell him that his mom said he was a smart, incredible, tenderhearted, lovable boy who does his practicing every day. He'll deny it.