Nursery Boy

My wife is the director of the nursery at my church. That means that I have to work the nursery some, errrr, a lot! I enjoy it on Wednesday nights. Sunday is a different story. I listen longingly as praise and worship plays on the speakers on Sunday.

But that is not what this blog is about. This blog is about Wednesday night. I worked with another man tonight. He is my father's age. He is one of my role models, since he is amazing with the kids. He has fun with them, while at the same time he has expectations of them. Anyway, tonight was a big night. We recently changed the rules so we now have 18 months until age 4. The 3 year olds can go to preschool if they are potty trained and can sit through a lesson. Needless to say, we have a couple of three year old hold outs. One of them gets dropped off poopy 75% of the time. The kid is as big as Kevin James. I did not know they made size 40 diapers. I think they correspond with waist size. Anyway, this kid fights every time you change his diaper. I am not talking whining and kicking. I'm saying the kid moves like a ninja and has the power of a sumo. A sumo with poop in his thong.

Anyway, that is not what this blog is about either. This blog is about a little girl who does not like people she does not know. This girl is watched by a woman in our church. She does not want to be dropped off in the nursery. She typically cries and flintches from the workers until they get her child care provider out of pitty. Tonight, she was dropped off and we were told that she does not like men much and we should get a woman. First of all, that girl does not like people. And second, we should get a woman? Like we stash women in the back that we can tag out with when the going gets tough. Mr. Chuck and Nurse Boy are pro's, though. We don't need no stinkin' woman. Get a WOMAN? We had those ten kids forgettin they had parents tonight. The girl ended up having fun, and she even gave us five before the night was over. This from a girl who would hide in her hands if you said her name. So, the moral of this blog is: Women are overrated.