Well, a week of Vacation Bible School has come and gone. If you’d like to see some blurry pictures I took, you can visit my school’s Facebook page and check it out. We bus our CDC kids over to church after breakfast, and everyone goes along except for the toddlers and the few young preschoolers who do not have reliable colons.
There are things I love about VBS, and things that make me grit my teeth, but overall, this year was the smoothest yet, and I was only full of rage for a small portion of Wednesday, so there’s that.
A breakdown of the week:
Monday: I was issued my shirt. I love the shirt, and the simplicity of dressing that it represents. I wash it every night and wear it again the next day. This year I took it a step further and wore the same pants each day, too. (Convertible cargo-pants-to-capris that had a ton of pockets for all my stuff.) The kids were great because they’re all a little shell-shocked and too freaked out to try any monkey business, but our schedule is a little rough because we’re learning the ropes.
Tuesday: Still pretty good. Ironing out the schedule details, but a little irritated at our young aides. I remind myself that they are just middle school/high school kids who are just children themselves. Alex (not one of my own) licks his name tag every day, and I need to hold Tyler’s hand wherever we go. I am sleepy when we get back to school due to lack of caffeine ingestion.
Wednesday: Always the worst day. The children have all the schedule stuff figured out and are now very comfortable with each other, so they put all their energy into showing that they understand sin, and that they would like to demonstrate several varieties to me. I holler at our child-aides on the playground to come join the group in my smiling yell, while the oldest pockets her phone and rolls her eyes. After asking Alex to not chew his name tag, he puts his whole fist in his mouth, removes it with a slurp, and proceeds to lick his arm up to his shoulder, never taking his eyes off of me. Tyler is pulling my arm out of my socket wherever we go. The last gathering time is the worst, since I am trying to keep a pleasant face while casting ‘The Look’ at twelve children at once. I have deep anger towards any adult watching the songs and skits up front instead of focusing on the children. I am still tired, and ask the pastor if we can have an espresso machine in the snack room next year.
Thursday: Things are much better. I have primed myself with four cups of coffee before we arrive, so I am full of energy. I am even feeling benevolent toward our three useless child-aides, though I say in an aside to our group’s teacher that their lack of enthusiasm might be because they are doing community service? or maybe they are just in this for the free shirt? Alex has eaten most of his name tag and I have stitched Tyler to my cargo pants.
Friday: A great day. I have come to love our little band of misfits and don’t even mind that Tyler and I now share a circulatory system. Alex just had a piece of threadbare yarn around his neck, so I assume he’s had enough to eat. The kids say ‘Thank You’ to each activity leader, and they all know the songs and sing them with gusto so the final gathering time looks and sounds just like VBS is supposed to, and I only had to give two Looks.
At least in these situations, I know I’m not alone. 😀
Gretchen says
Oh, you captured the spirit of VBS so beautifully…I’m sure CPH will soon link to this page.
Brad says
Now I’m curious about what those name tags taste like. Do you still have one that I could lick?
Kris says
I sat down at the computer to write a VBS Wrap-Up of my own, saw yours first, and decided I could never do it so well! You make me laugh out loud! Amen about the young aides! We had about 15 junior high and senior high helpers this year, and they were all great (although one of our sophomore recreation leaders told a group that he ate children, which got one little person to worrying so much she refused to play kickball) except Trey and Kara, who are not only worthless but extremely deaf when it comes to taking direction. Trey was playing basketball (not part of his job description) when I knocked on an accidentally-left-locked door. He looked straight at me and kept shooting. He’s no dummy, though. He wisely asked another adult to fill out his paperwork for service hours, since I had vowed to only sign off on service minutes.
Lauren says
Ha! That is awesome! I’ve tried to leave comments on your site but I can’t get through the login with WordPress, and the Facebook one scares me. You, missy, are hilarious!
michelle says
Loved it Lauren, do you mind if I share it with the “church ladies” ?
Lauren says
Be my guest. 🙂
Peggy says
HAHAHAHAHA!!! Yup, your description is spot on & hilarious!! But in the end, it’s all worth it. And I’m with Brad, maybe those name tags are super-salty.