I learned something about expectations today. Early this summer, I had decided to sign G up for a toddler clay class, fantasizing about making pinch pots together, I guess. We went last week, I gung-ho, he unsuspecting. But as soon as the class started I realized it was just exactly the wrong things:

sitting

focusing on one object for a long time

ignoring the brooms/buckets/chairs all over the room

touching slimey clay

resisting the many doors, leading to stairs, porches, driveways, utility closets

I was a little heartened by the fact that G was not alone in his disinterest and decided to go back for more today. This time, he took one look at the clay (as well as the cluster of well-focused, chatty toddler girls) and turned around for the more present joys of the parking lot, where a guy was hitching a trailer to a Suburban. I read the "That's Better" expression on his face and packed it in. We left, went out for iced tea and a scone (for me) and spent another 30 minutes in the train station, riding the elevator and watching the trains.

A couple of lessons learned: Graham is not going to like everything I like (or want him to like). Free shows, like the parking lot and train station, are sometimes (often) the best route. And, lastly,  it's my job to be open to navigating it all. And the guy with the trailer and the Suburban? Turned to us and said, "I'd rather watch this, too, buddy."