I took my boy for lunch at a Chinese restaurant, after an ill-fated attempt to get his hair cut, and he was quite fascinated by the chopsticks on the table. “Open! Open!” he demanded, so I separated them and he had a lovely time stringing pretzels on them. The waitress noticed his progress and brought him some chopsticks that were rubber-banded together with a bit of paper serving as a fulcrum. She helped him eat the first bite of tempura, and then he went. to. town. By the end of the meal, he was successfully eating rice! Rice! The hostess, who was in her 50s, said, “I can't even eat rice with chopsticks.” Very cool. And then, to cap it off, the fortune in his fortune cookie read, “You have a deep appreciation for the arts and music.” Truer words were never written; you should see him color and dance.