What I won't do for a job

I dragged the boy to church this morning. It was a good exercise in how to bribe a child into attending church. I promised him Perkins afterwards, but only if he behaved himself. And though I wasn't surprised by his slightly less than angelic redition of "How Great Thou Art", or the way he laughed when the preacher said "penetration" repeatedly during his sermon, he did still get the promised breakfast. It was strange to be back in church. Really, in the last few years my only church going moments were for 1) funerals 2) weddings 3) Christmas because my dad was singing 4) at the nursing home while visiting my grandma. I've never attended the church here in town. But I knew my old pastor was now here, so I gave it a whirl. Unfortunately, rather than have the 50ish hippie leading the service, we had what the boy described as "what I imagine Chris Farley would be like if he played the role of a pastor." Can't say I disagree. I was thinking more like a Jesse Jackson or Billy Graham...on crack. But even though the surroundings were new, and the pastor was a little...umm...excited, it seemed like the same old Lutheran church I went to as a child. Because my mom made me. Because she said if we didn't go to church we couldn't do anything fun the rest of the day. She threatened us by saying we would have to read the Bible instead. Gee, those happy church memories.

Another reason I am bothered by church--I have the church curse. It doesn't matter if only two pews in the entire chapel are occupied, the parents with the REALLY LOUD, ANNOYING, AND OFTEN CRYING children will sit directly behind me. They will scribble ferociously when I am trying to pray, they will kick the seat I am sitting in, they will squeal in my ears, and they will spill Cheerios all over the floor. People, there's a nursery. Leave your children there. Seriously, this place was huge and there were a million empty seats. I will be a terrible parent. I told the boy my children will read rather than roughhouse. He laughed.

Since I've mentioned Chris Farley, one note I have to make about my student essays. One student, while writing about how drugs and alcohol can be dangerous and how celebrities die from their addictions, wrote "like Jimi Hendrix, James Belushi, and Chris Farley." A bit random? Oh, my students will be wonderful this semester. I already told one student he picked my class over physics. I've seen the way he writes. It was a good choice. Hmm. That reminds me. I was going to make real lesson plans.