G has just informed me that I've ruined her entire weekend.
I know what you're all thinking -- "Did you ground her? Beat her? Cut the head off her favorite teddy bear? No. My heinous crime was informing her that she'll be participating in band this school year. I know more adults than I can count who regret not learning how to play an instrument, and G is not going to be one of them if I have anything to say about it. Which I do.
Needless to say, G took the news badly, moaning that playing an instrument is too hard and she doesn't want to. I told her that if she gets to the end of fifth grade and hates it, she doesn't have to do it again next year, but until then, she is going to play the clarinet even if it makes her lips fall off. (It doesn't have to be a clarinet. It could be a sousaphone or an oboe or a bouzouki. But given that this is elementary-school band, odds of it being the clarinet are pretty high.)
Truthfully, I kind of surprised myself with my own vehemence -- I'm pretty easy-going about most things, and in the past I've just let G try whatever interests her, racking up a checkered extracurricular history that includes tap, ballet, horseback riding, tennis and fencing. But music is important to me, and it was important to P (an accomplished guitarist), and I don't want her to miss out on learning the basics before she gets too old. She may not thank me for it later, but at least she won't be able to say she never had the opportunity.