Well, yay. I get to struggle through 2 Sundays without my husband, who is away on a business trip. It wouldn't be so bad, if I didn't have to teach Sunday School lessons to a gaggle of wiggly little children, in addition to trying to control my own.
The class started out pretty well, but the kids seemed to sense me feeling insecure and inept, their eyes shone mischievously, and their naughty sides emerged with flare.
I asked questions, and tried to play games, but my energetic 1 yr old baby was distracting, and the kids' little minds seemed prone to wander.
"Sometimes my Daddy spanks my Mommy", said one little boy shyly, his big doe eyes looking up at me.
"My Mommy wants more babies, but my Daddy doesn't!" stated another emphatically.
Struck dumb, I smiled stupidly, and tried to think of something to say. Not really feeling up to the task, I struggled through the rest of the lesson. Finally, it was time to go.
"Davie, would you like to say the prayer?" I asked politely.
"No", he said bluntly. Taken aback, I tried again.
"Okay, who would like to say the prayer?" Somebody volunteered, and with relief, we tried to wrap up our little get-together. We all bowed our heads. . .
"And please help my Mommy to have another baby. . . "
Well, they were sunk now. The prayer of a child is a powerful thing. Somehow we made it through the rest of our Sabbath Day activities, finally got home and collapsed.
By the by, if you happen to have a 6-year-old child in Primary class, and you think you have any secrets left, I'm here to tell ya, you don't. Just lettin' ya know. : )