My Little Heathens

And I mean that in the most affectionate way.

I take the kids to church whenever I can. Steve stays home to have some 'him-time'. We go to a very old and old-fashioned Baptist Church. There are some young families, but most of the congregation are empty-nesters and/or seniors. About ten minutes into the service the children are called to the front of the sanctuary to sit on the steps and listen to a story before being excused to a Sunday School programme. My guys usually do very well, sit quietly, if not attentively, and go through the motions.

This morning the minister was talking about apples. I missed the message beyond that because I had to haul the boys out. As part of his story, he mimed giving each child an apple out of his imaginary bag. Jack has previously received a few congregational chuckles from innocent kid things he's said and has caught on. Now he likes to elicit laughs but once it's an effort it's no longer cute. He pretended to throw his apple away, and put up an obnoxious, obstinant front. Then Paxten, sitting in her dress with her legs apart, started playing with her underwear. I tried to get her attention and call her over to me in the front row, but she was too ingrossed in the story. Jack saw my beckon though, and decided HE should come see me. A few steps away from the stairs he saw me point for him to go back and sit down, and turned back. Too late, Elliot had moved into his space beside Paxten. Jack motioned for Elliot to move back and Elliot refused, with an impish four-year-old grin. What would any reasonable almost-six year old do? He tackled Elliot. And Elliot does not give in. And just like that, there were my two boys, wrestling on the steps while my delicate little girl played with her underwear. A proud moment for any mother. I got up out of my seat, stormed as quietly as I could to the front and hauled the two boys out by their upper arms while the minister quipped "I guess it's about time to go to your class". They knew they were in trouble, sitting immediately and quietly in the hall outside the sanctuary.

All is well, now, as I made them apologize. After their Sunday school class I brought them to the front of the church where the minister was saying good morning and they very eloquently recited "I'm sorry I didnt' listen during the story". I was proud of them then... I think it takes guts to say sorry to a person of authority like that and they did it well. Let's hope for the sake of the whole congregation that they learned a lesson.

N