Down the Slippery Slope to Primary

Around our house, we have lots of little (and big) bits of paper that look like this:

This is, of course, because we have children in the house, who produce art like this on a massive scale. Truth be told, however, this is not art produced by any of our children. And thus lies the quandary. Our kids are older, and produce art that's mostly recognizable. Liam draws his won comic strip, Scooter. Lexie draws lots of horses and princesses. Isaac, being the intensely stubborn male that he is, draws scribbles and stick figures.

This art, as I mentioned, puts me in a quandary. It's the first of what's likely to be a long string of art that's going to be coming into the house form a new source: Primary.

Up until a week ago, I was Elders Quorum instructor, teaching out of the Joseph Smith manual, looking forward to diving into gospel principles next year. But now I'm in the Primary, class as yet unknown. Today, I acted as a substitute teacher for the Sunbeams, home to children 1 1/2 to 3 years of age, and pepperpots all of them. I had two little girls crying for their mothers (they both eventually settled down once they figured out I'm a nice guy) and one little boy who really wanted his momma but really, really, REALLY just wanted to run around and poke his nose in everyone's business and try to rip the glasses off my face.

And then they drew art. Sophie -- I don't know her last name, so I'll call her Sophie Tucker; I like the idea of teaching a nascent plate-twirler and Vaudevillian -- drew the art I present today.



She insisted I take it home with me, "to hang on my wall." Five minutes later she was upset because she couldn't find her drawing. I gave it back to her. She didn't recognize it, and started crying again. I think the Elders were a much easier audience. Sure, you had to prod them awake once and a while, and they could also be irrational in their own little ways, but at least they kept the crying for their mommies to a minimum.