Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Parental Advisory Primary

What do you do when your 6 year old primary class needs a parental advisory warning?
I smile and ignore it. (Pretty much the same thing I do in like every situation.)

The week before last we had one of our class members make his Primary child paper doll stark raving naked and anatomically correct. Complete with bum cheeks in the back. Nice.
Later in the lesson one of the girls wanted to just know how babies get from heaven to the mommy's tummy anyway.

Then last week as we discussed talents yet another student wanted to show us his "sexy man" dance. And the whole lesson wrapped up with a girl showing us the picture she made of her sister crying in hell.

So overall I'd say we're teaching the kids loads of really great material. Unfortunately, it may not be the material we are aiming for. But on the bright side we get to smile a lot. (That is until they fire us.)

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Just Now

I was just sitting here typing and Simon comes in.
Me: I love you Simon.
Simon: Why?

At this point I began listing things....

...because you're so smart, because you have brown eyes, because you can sometimes read my mind

Simon: What mind?

What mind indeed.

How Do You Spell...

The other day in the car Simon asked me, "How do you spell the word boob?"
"How do you spell what?"
"Boob"
"Um...boob? Hum, let's see. I'm not sure. Use it in a sentence."
"What a boob! What a maroon!"

(Oh That's right. Jon let him watch a Looney Toon marathon the other afternoon.)

"Ohhhh sure, boob. B-O-O-B. Boob."
"Ok. Thanks mom."

I know it didn't change the spelling but as it is with most words it was the meaning and not the spelling I was concerned with.
Whew.

Friday, January 15, 2010

The Girlfriend of Doom

So my brother has been casually dating this girl for like the past year. Sure, she seems like a nice enough girl...goes to church, has a job and an education, doesn't wear thigh high hooker boots and a lot spandex. You know, a real take-home-to-meet-the-family type of girl. Unfortunately, I don't think that their relationship is really going to work out for me.

Why, you ask?

Because she is the girlfriend of doom. EVERY and I mean EVERY time we've been together destruction has followed. For instance the night I met her I was wearing a full on pirate eye patch. No, it wasn't Halloween. It was last spring. That morning I sliced my eye open, which made it swell making me look like Quasimodo's cousin. Then to compound the situation it wept non-stop and became unbearably sensitive to light. Hence the pirate patch given to me by the eye doctor. I have no doubt that her first impression was overwhelmingly positive.

Other coincidental gems soon followed. Including freezing wind up the canyon blowing our picnic away in the dark while I sat in the van with two very cold, crying, and unhappy children, the time she came over and my house was covered from the kitchen to the front door in pumpkin guts courtesy of Jon, Simon and the electric drill, or my personal favorite---the time she came for dinner and our homemade pizzas CAUGHT ON FIRE in my oven. Oh, that was awesome. Nothing impresses potential girlfriends like eating $5 Little Ceasers pizza in a smoked filled house more than an hour after arriving for dinner. (At least I wasn't wearing my eye patch that night.)

More stellar accounts could be listed but suffice it to say that our meetings have not gone well. So it is with great trepidation that I announce she will be here again tomorrow night for games. What will it be this time? Another flat tire? Will one of her pets attack me? I know, maybe this time it will be barf instead of spit globs on our game.

The suspense is killing me...

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

Hey Good Looking

Before Christmas Simon had his tonsils and adenoids removed. The next morning when we all woke up I realized we had no bread or milk in the house. Super.

Without even getting the kids dressed I loaded them in the car. Simon wasn't feeling well but I tempted him with the prospects of picking out a bucket of ice cream all for himself.

As we walked through the wind and snow into the store I knew this would have to be a fast trip. Gracie was crying for milk and Simon was melting into a pile. Quickly I threw Gracie and Simon into the shopping cart and sped over to the milk. Without even waiting to pay for it (or finish my shopping) I opened the milk and filled Gracie's bottle.

With one child under control I asked Simon what would help him. By now he was laying in a heap next to Grace's car seat in the cart. He said he was freezing. So I covered them both with my coat. As we walked around I saw big tears falling down his cheeks. "Mom, I don't feel good," he says. Me, mad at myself for not planning ahead ask what I can do to help. "Sing me a song." he says.

Well, what was I supposed to do? How could I say no? I start to sing. Simon covers them up "like a fort" in the cart and we proceed to pick up a few more items. Things are going swimmingly and I forget to keep my voice down.

As we turn down the next aisle I'm belting out "Hey good lookin'. What you got cookin'?" Only to be met by some dude (roughly my same age) who smiles weakly, flashes me his wedding ring and heads off toward the cereal. Suddenly I look down at the cart and see only groceries! My kids are completely covered up and I realize that I look like I'm alone and that guy thought I was singing to him.

Seriously?!? Who would pick up on someone like that? I wanted to get on the PA system and tell him that this is Wal-Mart and not Top Gun but then I realized I didn't even have back up singers or a uniform and that it was really a bad analogy and that when it all comes down to it I just shouldn't be allowed out in public. Could someone please remind me of this the next time I need milk?