Apology Letters to Son.
I set unrealistic expectations

Dear Son, I hope this note finds you in a better mood than the one I created last week—when I insisted you could master the violin in a single afternoon. I mean, who knew all it took was some fairy dust and a magic wand, right? Here I was, picturing you serenading the family at our next dinner party, and instead, we ended up with ear-splitting sound effects that could make a cat sound like a choir. I truly thought I was motivating you to become the next Mozart instead of auditioning for the role of “a very confused potato." I promise to dial it back on the expectations (and maybe learn how to appreciate the “unique” sound of a beginner). Please forgive me for my moment of temporary insanity. I swear I have since revisited my belief that talent can sprout like weeds with just a little sunshine and miracle grow. From now on, I’ll aim for a more realistic plan that involves less pressure and more fun—like letting you play the kazoo instead! Thank you for being my son and for enduring my high hopes with grace. I value your patience, and I love you more than I love imagining you as a prodigy. With all my love (and a promise to support your kazoo career), Mom/Dad