Today was a bit of a rough one, Sunday School-wise. The teacher was frazzled. The students were frazzling, each in their own special way. No one seemed to understand the lesson, but that might have been because no one could stop talking long enough to listen.
Assistant: God knows all about you. He counts every hair on your head.
Student: What if you have head lice?
Student: So, God knows, like, everything, right?
Assistant: That's right.
Student: (thinks for a moment) So, does Jesus like "What Not to Wear?"
Student: (looking at lesson leaflet) What's in this picture? Those look like chicken tenders! Are those chicken tenders?
Me: I don't think they are. So, can anyone tell me....
Student: Does God like chicken tenders? I love them.
I just know that if I was 60 years old and scary, this would not happen.
6 comments:
Sorry, but I can't help it. I'm kid-sick.
Is "kid-sick" similar to car-sick or home-sick? I can't tell which is the proper interpretation. ;o)
We should buy you a hag mask. Or at least a rubber nose. With a wart.
We should switch for a week. I'm beginning to think that discussions of chicken tenders would be more fun than hearing "I'm going to be five" forty-seven times in eight minutes every Sunday. :)
Like home-sick. Home= kids
Anna-- That's just sweet.
Adriane-- There was one other part that I forgot to mention. That was when Alice proposed that we scrap the lesson and just talk about our favorite movies until it was time for music.
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