I had another perfect Sunday to add to my list of Sunday fails. Of course it started out like any other Sunday (couldn’t find Big Girl’s shoes, Boy #2 didn’t have time to brush his teeth, and Hubby was mad about the aforementioned unpreparedness). Also, I was not looking forward to teaching my Primary class. Blasphemous, I know, but it’s hard when you’ve got a student who completely refuses to cooperate in any way, shape or form, and this time was no exception.
Most of the kids were pretty good and I didn’t have a particularly large class that day. It was even kind of rewarding to be teaching a lesson on the Easter story, even if it was Christmastime (how was I supposed to know the second to last lesson in the book was to be given on Easter rather than at the end of the year?). It was even cute when I asked the kids what resurrection was and one kid said, “I’m drawing a blank.” When I explained what resurrection was and that Jesus was resurrected, he asked, “Will WE come back alive?” When I said yes, he gasped and said, “No way. You’ve got to be KIDDING me!” To which another child responded “No, I know someone who died and they’re dead. ” I explained that we won’t be resurrected until a long time later. “Like 100 days?” “Like 100 years,” I said. They were even more shocked when I told them that everyone was going to be resurrected, even the bad guys. It was kind of a fun lesson to give. They were actually engaged (mostly) and although they were a little squirrelly, the lesson went on without much incident (except for the frequently recurring need to remind one kid not to lean on the girl next to him).
Then we went to the part of Primary where all the different ages of kids are together. Things started fine (they always do) until my youngest daughter, Little Girl, tried sitting on my lap. I told her to sit quietly in her seat, but she would have none of it. In her defense it was the third hour that we had been expecting her to sit still in church. She probably would have been OK with it if I hadn’t been there, but I was, and wouldn’t let her on my lap, so she lay on the floor in front of me while the other teacher was trying to teach her lesson. I tried to ignore her (Little Girl, not the teacher) so instead of engaging her I took off my shoe to adjust my little no-show sock that I was wearing with my flats. I wear them to keep my feet from getting sweaty and stinky, but in reality they slip down until they are hanging by one toe and doing little good. Attempting to adjust said sock, I took it off and stretched it out to put it back on. Just then my daughter tried again to get into my lap, causing me to let go of the sock, which flung through the air. All the while the teacher is teaching, oblivious (thank goodness) to the chaos in front of her. Being a little helper, one of my primary kids got up to hand me my crumpled and sweaty (yes, it was actually a little damp) sock. Little girl was still trying to get onto my lap. I took the sock back as quickly as I could, hoping that the boy wouldn’t mention how gross it was. Luckily he didn’t. I put on my sock in the most angry way one can, and sent Little Girl out in to the hallway to sit until she was willing to sit in her chair. Then we went on as if nothing had happened.
The moral of this story is: “Don’t teach primary if you have kids young enough to want to sit on your lap.” That, or “Don’t take your socks off in public.” Yeah, that one’s probably more doable, not to mention courteous.