
There are many women in our ward who have a toddler who is too young to be in nursery and heavily pregnant with another baby. Painful memories assail me as I watch these poor ladies in R.S. struggle with their little hellions (wait, I mean angels of course). Most Sundays I find myself feeling sorry for at least one of them and find myself walking out in the halls with someone else's wayward baby so the mother can get a few minutes of the lesson. Today was another one of those days. I should be careful, I'll get the reputation for a soft heart.
B-Man is in a Sunbeam with seven 3 year olds in the class, 2 of which are boys. They are a handful to say the least. The boys, not the whole class. The primary presidency had the forethought to put a young couple in charge of the class. One of them to restrain, I mean tenderly hold, one of the boys. The other to teach the class. Today as I was wandering the halls with a random baby I saw his class file out into the hallway to await joining the Sr. primary. What I saw melted my mean little heart. B-Man was cuddled up in his guy teachers' arms. The guy didn't even seem awkward about holding him either.
This evening one of my best friends, Pat, and I had another batch of our insane Scrabble games. Seriously, we're deathly competitive and she insists on playing till she wins at least one game. Every once in a while she'll surprise me and come out with a big # word, but more often than not the high score is left up to me. So there have been times we've been playing for HOURS. I have never intentionally let her win. Really, I haven't.
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