One of the sunbeams was wearing a pink beaded necklace, comprised of those tiny little beads that you have to squint to really see. She was fiddling with it (because why not? Life is so much more fun when you fiddle with things) and it snapped. Little beads flew everywhere, including down her dress which made her squirm uncomfortably for the next fifteen minutes. I spent most of singing time bent over, trying to get them gathered so that she could have her mommy fix it after church...then I remembered why bending over is a little harder when you're officially seven months pregnant. I may have squooshed my baby, but I sure got those beads.
(Story as seen by Kiki, who sits in the back of the primary room)
McKay turned around to look at me and wave when all of a sudden Rose gave him a big ol' kiss on his cheek, and the most horrified expression came over his face. He pushed her away. Ah, young love.
And a few weeks ago...
Every single one of my seven sunbeams was wearing pink. Yes, even the little boy. He had a pink shirt on with a navy blue tie and suit to match. Why do I not take my camera to church with me?
We had a visitor come to church. To put it nicely, she was energetic, and liked to make the other sunbeams energetic too. The lesson that day was "I am thankful for my nose" so we went for a walk to smell the different smells around the church. Our sugar-high visitor was running all over the place when all of a sudden she slowed down to a walk, and said to nobody in particular, "I need to go potty. My panties are wet."
Really? That's all the warning I get?
My child will be perfect. She'll potty train herself at age one and a half.
Right?
4 comments:
Ha! That is funny, no doubt your child will be perfect.
People who teach sunbeams need to write books about their experiences. It is just too funny.
We're already trying to potty train
Millie. There's just something about paying money to put my hands in her poop that rubs me the wrong way.
the poop rubs you the wrong way?
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