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Sunday, January 30, 2011

I'm In The Nursery Now...


It began this morning as I prepared...an errant thought that quickly grew until it consumed me. I'm in the nursery now. I can't wear my normal church clothes, my suit that is only a few years old. No, I've got to put on clothes that may (and I stress, 'may') not survive. I dress accordingly.

The meetings start. I take the opportunity to take a nap in meeting number one--for strength and endurance, you understand. The sound of "Amen" disappears into the air, replaced by organ music and chatter as happy people leave the room to be edified and uplifted and, in a word, blessed.

My wife and I turn down a different hall, away from the others, separated from the security of numbers and we enter, the room...because I'm in the nursery now.

We enter and the scene of carnage inflicted upon inanimate objects and noise-producing toys defies description. Acts of violence not witnessed since our own children were that age rush back into our consciousness, a shudder rushes up my spine.

The battle ensues, with each soldier occupied in hand-to-hand-to-hand combat. Our side wins some, gains some ground only to lose it when a laundry basket full of D.I. toys is scattered and almost totally covers the nursery room floor. Finally our leader regroups and we throw something at them we know will help--crafts.

Time stands still as we throw first crafts, then snacks, then singing time, then a lesson at them--some relent, but others fight on, their fingers coated with a substance of questionable origin. They never back down; they never give up. I'm in the nursery now.

The adults counter with the one weapon left in the cupboard...bubbles. The children are powerless to the spherical orbs floating gently over their heads, surrounding their bodies, overwhelming their snack-fueled senses. They stare skyward and chase the oily globes as the descend. The army of "volunteers" have won...this week.

I leave the room after the last soldier has been retrieved and re-assigned to battle members of his/her own family. In seven days the battle begins again. In the coming days I'll need to train harder, work smarter, and prepare for the horrors that surely lie in store, because...well, I'm in the nursery now.


(artwork courtesy of churchbabies.blogspot.com)

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