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Monday, June 11, 2012

Children and Other Dangerous Animals


I feel like I've just been through a natural disaster and I long to bathe in several gallons of hand sanatizer. But thats what happens when you volunteer at your church's Sunday school. You also are very likely to be kicked, sat on, and made to play dollies. But far more concerning is that I can't decide if the stuff dripping down my leg is water or spit. Then again perhaps I should be more concerned at other things that tend to happen in Sunday school such as child-sized cage-wrestling, aspiring nudists to be, and picking up lincoln logs until realizing that the church doesn't stock that toy.



For all my griping and groaning I truly enjoy working with little children. Working isn't really the word for it, its more like playing with them. If you stop and really try to communicate at their level it can be fascinating to see how they think. Its almost like observing an adorable alien life form that has yet to learn the ways of your world,  a totally original creature who is naive enough to believe in the improbable. That being said it doesn't mean when said little child begins to smell like a ripe Jonny-on-the-Spot that i'm not going to start forgetting about the cuteness mighty quick. 


Something I've noticed that churches (and grocery stores) have begun doing is self-checkout. The only difference really is that instead of heads of lettuce you are scanning the bar codes on the name tags of children before and after children's church. At the church my sisters and I go to for bible study in fact their nametags look like the nutrition labels on a cereal box. Are we teaching these children about God and 101 ways to use Elmer's glue or eating them? I'd like to know since I'm pretty sure the sugar content on my sisters is through the roof. And after dealing with the kids at our church I think that mini straight-jackets might have been a better investment. 


Speaking of that they are being awfully quiet I think i'd better go check and make sure my little sisters have gotten lost in Emma (the 3 year old)'s bed again. Honestly, shes like a little blonde dragon hording her treasures and her cave is her bed. Since her treasures include barbies and barbie houses, shoes, clothes, plastic swords, food, cutlery, small creatures she finds outside, stuffed animals, batteries, blankets, and many other items I learned my lesson the first time I jumped into her bed and found the lost kitchen scissors. 



Pillow Paradise,

Hannah Hoo

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