The scene opens ...

(from Tamie)

... with Cara, Makayla and Kendall all sitting at a table in the third grade
classroom last Wednesday night. (We worked on notes to missionaries-in-training Brent and Jill Nichols and Zane and April McGee at the end of class.)

Cara: I'm writing my letters in cursive.
Makayla: Me too.
Kendall: I'm printing mine.
Makayla: Why?
Kendall: Because I'm not sure Brent and Jill can read cursive.
Tamie: Kendall! Adults can read cursive. It's OK to write your note in
cursive.
Kendall: OK then, Jill can read cursive. But I'm not so sure about Brent.

Really, I wish that Ross child's parents would do a better job teaching her manners.

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We have established AND documented that teaching Bible classes aren't my forte. I finally figured out why: The children are totally on to me. They know that I'm putty in their hands, so easily entertained and distracted. I'm like the substitute teacher we always longed for in middle school (her name was Mrs. Brooks) who we could totally play. Every Wednesday night now I'm getting my just dessert, let me assure you.

"Miss Tamie, can we play (insert name of fun game here) where you ask us questions and we do (X, Y and Z) while we answer them? Oh please oh please oh please?

When they're in Remedial Minor Prophets someday, I'll be the one to blame.