Tough Times
My wife teaches at the Sunday school at our church. This sounds like a good thing, but from my own selfish perspective, it simply means that I’m stuck going to church by myself. They go to Sunday school instead. I end up going to church by myself – or not, as the case may be. I mean, who likes going to church alone?
The other day when they came back from church, C (the five year old) was hanging his head and looking quite dejected.
I put my writing away and went to ask him what was wrong.
He mumbled something unintelligible and tried to dodge the question. I pursued it, but he suddenly developed an urge to go potty and ran off – no doubt planning on sitting there long enough for me to forget my questioning.
His mom and little brother, slower getting out of the car, walked in as he was running to the bathroom.
“What’s up?” I asked.
His momma looked very stern. She held the look until he was out of the room, and then couldn’t keep it any more. A silly grin spread across her face. “He was so bad they put him in time-out.”
“Time-out – in Sunday School?” Sunday school at their age is basically doing crafts and eating snacks while the teacher talks about God.
She nodded, clearly trying not to laugh.
I’d never heard of time-out in Sunday School. “Does this happen often?”
“First time I’d ever seen it. The teacher said it was her first time too.”
That’s my boy – always blazing new ground. A real chip off the old block.
So what did he do?
Yeah…what’d he do??
Unfortunately, I don’t know! I never wrote down his crime and J can’t remember it either. Pretty shabby reporting on my part, but for me that makes it all the funnier. No one remembers what he got in trouble for – just that he got in trouble.