On Sunday morning, Jared and I were right where we normally are--teaching the two-hour Sunbeam Sunday School class at church. We have a group of eleven three-year-olds, and I won't mince words here, it's complete chaos.
We try to teach them about Jesus, we really, really try. But usually, we miss the mark by a pretty wide margin. Our conversations usually go something like this:
US: Does Jesus love you?
THEM: No, Barney loves me.
US: Does Jesus live in heaven?
THEM: No, Jesus lives in my mailbox.
US: Who's this? (pointing to a picture of Jesus)
THEM: I need to poop.
Our doctrinal lessons might not be moving along so well, but I will admit that the Sunbeams' behavior has improved by leaps and bounds.
For example, this past Sunday, little Jake had to use the potty. Jared took him by the hand and led him to the bathroom. When they arrived, Jake immediately attempted to open the door to an occupied stall. Jared explained that someone was using that toilet and asked Jake if he knew how to use a urinal. Jake indicated that he did indeed know how to pee standing up by kicking off his shoes, socks, khakis, underoos, and doing his business.
When Jake finished up, Jared was busy washing his hands in the sink. He looked over toward the little Sunbeam and said something like, "Put your pants back on, buddy and let's wash your hands." But instead of heeding Jared's request, Jake charted a course of his own.
He made a bee-line for the occupied stall and crawled under the locked door because, duh, that man--you know, the one who was pooping in the stall?--Jake assumed that he might like to have some company to make the time flow by.
Jared heard a man's voice say something like, "Heeeeyyyyy! Whoaaaa! Whatcha doin' buddy?" And heard Jake exclaim, "Just sayin' hello!!!" And when he looked over, Jake's entire body, with the exception of his feet, we're sharing the inside of the pooping stall with this poor, innocent church-goer.
Before he had a chance to process the situation, Jared grabbed Jake by the ankles and pulled him across the tile floor on his belly and out of that unsuspecting man's personal bubble.
A moment or two later, the pooper, who happened to be an older gentleman, emerged from the stall, said hi to Jared and asked, "So is that your boy?" And Jared was all, "NO!"
See what I mean? That type of behavior is a huge improvement compared to previous weeks. I think we're definitely gaining control of this group.