Tonight was the first night of AWANA for the twins this year. (If you’ve never heard of it, it’s like Bible boy scouts but with fewer merit badges and more puppets.) They were excited to go and see their little friends from last year. I was having a personal crisis worrying about them saying something horribly rude or obscene in front of their innocent, non-demonic friends.
The twins behaved themselves, to a point. So, I left them with their leaders and took Foodie to the toddler and baby room. She had been “singing” to get attention when we were observing the boys’ class so, it was in everyone’s best interest if she was far away and behind a sound-muffling door.
She played happily with the other kids until the addition of a Very Unhappy Camper.
This little fella had been with his mama out with the big kids, but started making mischief. So, he was being brought to Toddler Jail to be contained. He was not on board with this decision and wailed with conviction when his mother left.
“Mama, he’s cryin’,” Foodie told me gravely. Apparently she thinks I am stone deaf because everyone in the building knew that little guy was crying. Trust me.
“Mama! He’s cryin’!” she told me again, more urgently this time. His state of agitation was very concerning to Foodie. I was touched. She cared about a little boy she didn’t even know!
“You want him to stop?” I asked her.
“Well, go give him a hug. That might make him feel better.”
“Oh. Never mind. He keeps cryin’,” she said disinterestedly, walking away to go play with a plastic tea set. Apparently her concern for that little boy’s feelings came to a screeching halt once touching became involved.
And thus we have entered the “Boys Are Icky” stage. May it last for another 20 years. At least.