So T wasn’t thrilled about practicing the viola this morning, and was stomping around, grumbling, and in other ways expressing this lack of excitement. Remembering one way his teacher diffuses his bad moods, we sent him out of the room and told him we were starting over, and he should come back in ready to practice and in a good mood. Since we’re in a hotel (we’re visiting Carlsbad Caverns this weekend), he went into the bathroom where he hummed and futzed around for a little while before stomping out with an I’m-really-not-smiling look on his face.
“That’s not a good mood!” I said.
“I AM in a good mood,” he said. “I just don’t LIKE being in a good mood sometimes.”
