Lesson Learned the Hard Way

Here's a parenting lesson I'm learning the hard way: when your child wins a gift certificate to a restaurant you wouldn't normally go to, just go. Go quickly. Because when you look for the thing two years later - and it's expired - you now have to go and you have to pay for it. Horrible.

That was the case with Dylan and his gift certificate to Chili's. Dylan received the gift certificate in kindergarten. One of my good friends, who Dylan calls Uncle Brian, had promised to take him to Chili's to use the certficiate since I wouldn't take him. It's been two years and we had still never picked a day for it. Finally we picked a day and, as I mentioned before, the certificate was expired. But when you tell a 7-year-old you're going to take him somewhere, you have to do it. Oh, and to add to the horror, Brian promised to take them to McDonald's for dessert. Seriously.

So we went. The funniest response to my reporting that I actually went to Chili's and McDonald's: "I thought your account was hacked." If only that were the case. Here I am with my vanilla soft serve...at the drive-through because Brian said he wouldn't set foot into McDonald's. He'll promise my kid an ice cream cone from there, but won't leave the comfort of his vehicle!

There you have it. My account was not hacked. I did, in fact, eat at those establishments. The cocktail was weak, the food salty, really salty. And the funny thing is that I have eaten all over the world, from questionable food carts on beaches in third world countries and my body has never reacted like this; twenty minutes after we ate, Riley, Dylan, and I were running for the bathroom, almost as if our bodies were yelling 'reject! reject!' Jake laughed, saying, "I guess my body remembers eating food like this."

All I have to say is: if the school hadn't done away with giving out gift certficiates to Chili's as a reward for never being tardy, I would make sure that we were late at least once!

Ukulele Club

The ukulele arrived. But after about five minutes with it, Dylan was very concerned: Nonna, I only have four lessons. I'm not going to be able to play any songs.

My mom relayed the story to me which translated to - you need to find him some local lessons after the four that we got for him.

So I hit the internet and discovered a local ukulele club. I called and spoke to a very nice gentleman.

My son just received a soprano and baritone ukulele and four lessons from my parents. I'm looking for some local lessons after that.

Well, my wife gives lessons...but only for beginners.

He's only going to have had FOUR lessons. He'll still be a beginner.

Oh, by then he'll know two or three chords. That's plenty for him to come play with us.

I was dumbfounded. The conversation continued...to the members of the group.

Most of us have been playing for two years. Most of the group are in their 60s. I myself am 80. My son sometimes plays with us; he's 50. But there are some teenagers that come sometimes.

My son is seven.

That's great!

So, in a couple of weekends, Dylan and I will be hitting the beach with our ukuleles...jamming with the geezer ukers. I printed their song book. Can't wait. I'm still going to look for lessons though.

Another Odd Stringed Instrument for the Mann Boys

Right before Riley turned eight, he presented me with a plan: how he was going to afford a mandolin.

He'd become enamoured with the instrument because his first grade teacher - our beloved Ms. Z - played one. And he had a plan to ask the Nonni, Grandma, and Poppa to send him money towards his mandolin for his birthday...instead of a present. He found the mandolin that he wanted, emptied out his piggy bank, and calculated how much he needed, and asked me if I could convey that to the grandparents. I did. So, less than two weeks after he turned 8, Riley had his instrument in hand and I had even found a local mandolin teacher for him.

Flash forward one year...the kid is good! He's been taking lessons for a year and his repertoire includes Bach, some bluegrass, some jazz, Greek songs, Spanish songs, and folk songs; he and his teacher "invented" the surf-mandolin genre and Riley's even composed a piece of his own. I am in awe. And I am not easily impressed.

Throughout the year, the Nonni have noticed that Dylan is taking an interest in music - Nonna has been working with him on the piano - but the green-eyed monster called Sibling Rivalry is still rearing its nasty visage. They won ukulele lessons at a raffle and, after discussing it with Dylan, he said that he really wants to learn how to play the ukulele. So, yesterday Nonna and I researched and bought Dylan a baritone ukulele and Nonno will drive him to and from San Jose for four private lessons.

The stringed instruments most kids choose - violin, guitar - do not appeal to my out-of-the-box-thinking little Manns. So, we have acquired yet another odd stringed instrument in the family. Now what am I going to play!?!

Destined for the Greens

Living on the Monterey Peninsula, there are two kinds of recreation that you are almost destined to do: golf and SCUBA.

While Jake and I have the SCUBA angle covered, down the line, neither of us are golfers. But since my dad is, we figured golf lessons were an enrichment that the boys should definitely have under their belts.

Thank goodness for the AT&T Pebble Beach Junior Golf Association. The annual membership fee is $25; and five one-hour lessons during the summer program is also $25. Not too shabby.

The boys had a great time, driving and putting. They can't wait to play a round with Nonno later this summer.