Cookie Monster

It is Friday and I think that calls for a little levity, especially considering my last post was so weepy. Good stories always come out of the 3-4 year old Sunday School Class that I teach. This event took place a couple of weeks ago. I was reminded of it again because Sally and Vonda have been talking about their 3+ year-olds testing limits.

We have a regular routine to the class - they come in and play until a critical mass has assembled. We clean up the toys and sit on the carpet for our "welcome activity", followed by our story. Then we move to our tables to learn or review a memory verse, do our craft project, and have snack. After snack we go back to the carpet to sing until class is over.

Our classroom is not unlike the dorms we lived in Sophomore year - two rooms connected by a small bathroom. So the children can go to the bathroom by themselves and when they come out they get assistance with reaching the sink for hand washing.

Well during our singing time one of my three year old boys went to the bathroom. He took a little longer than normal but I didn't think too much of it. Nor apparently did the other three adults in the room (that have all had children I might add). Well just as I really began to wonder about him, the handle turns and he comes out. I get a look at him before he goes to the sink. And what I see causes me, with slight panic in my voice, to say, "What is on your mouth?!" My co-teacher's cue to look horrified. It is just not what you want to hear when I child comes out of the bathroom! I learned here that three year-olds are very truthful. "Cookie," he says.

As he gets his hands washed and mouth wiped by another adult, my co-teacher sails through the bathroom to the classroom on the other side. No class meets in there on Sundays. What she found was a couple of bags of leftover treat bags that I had brought the class before Christmas. The Children's Church class had met in that room on that particular Sunday. I left all the bags in there for those teachers to send home and there were a couple extra. And guess who found them?!

I later went to look and what was really incredible was that they were on a high counter, behind something else - I even had to lean over to see them! This child's head barely comes above my knee! Three year-olds also have extrasensory perception when it comes to sniffing out cookies.

Of course, the other part of the story is that I tell this to my own parents and my father admonishes me for letting that child get into another classroom. "Not watching him properly." "Other door should have been locked." "Could have gotten out into the street." A) I'm not the only adult in the room, and did I mention that all of them have kids? B) You can't lock the bathroom doors from either side, I checked. I am sure that is for safety. C) If he made it to the hall, there is a big desk where several more adults are present to ward off weirdos and prevent escapees. D) Not once in 3+ years that I have been teaching or helping with this class has a child ever gone through the bathroom to the other side. The lure of the month old cookie is strong.

Lessons learned-
Three year-olds are:
sneaky but not very good at it
truthful
equipped with supersonic smellers
are able to scale tall counters when there is a cookie at stake

Your own parents will:
never stop telling you what to do
still not accept "I wasn't the only one" as an excuse for anything

Happy Friday everyone! Especially those with three year-olds!

The soup that broke the camel's back

In the grand scheme of things, it is just annoying but for me it was a tipping point.

Last night after church, I decided that I didn't really want any of the -what we used to call "frozen treats" in my freezer for dinner. It was really cold and I just wanted some soup. Earthfare, which always has a couple of hot soups, is nearby so I popped in to get some. To my delight they had Tomato Basil, I had a sample and it was delicious. I filled my take-out container, grabbed a fresh baked baguette and was on my way. "Do I need a bag?" "No, that's ok." Waste not, want not.

So I get home and get out of the car with my purse, briefcase, coffee cup, soup and baguette. The soup falls right out of my hand and splats in the parking lot. I stood frozen, staring at the ground in disbelief. Seriously?? (explicative, EXPLICATIVE) There just isn't anything to be done when you drop your soup in the parking lot, it is not a salvagable situation. I scoop up the container with what is left inside it and the lid and head inside. Downcast. I just wanted some hot yummy soup.

I get inside and make my requisite call to my parents to say "I'm home." My Daddy says enthusiastically, "What kind of soup did you get?!" "Oh, the soup that I dropped and it splattering in the parking lot? Tomato Basil." "Ohhh, baby I'm sorry," he says sympathetically. Daddies are good that way, he just knew it was more than just the irritation of dropping soup.

As I scraped what was left into a little old bowl to reheat it, tears stung my eyes. I'd lost half of my little supper for one. I got it all by myself, was prepared to eat it all by myself until I dropped it all by myself. I am so tired of having to do everything all by myself and think of everything that has to be done all by myself. It sucks.

You know you're in a temporary low when you are blasting LeAnn Rimes, "Something's Gotta Give" in the car on the way to work. Oh and did I mention that Bachelor N never called? Oh and I am going to be 32 in a week and a half.

Maybe you've had the same experience where a little thing totally threw you for a loop and brought up all the doubts that you try to supress.


"I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief." Mark 9:24

Because of the LORD'S great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, "The LORD is my portion; therefore I will wait for him." Lamentations 3:22-24