I am not funny. I wish I were, but I'm not. I really, really admire funny people though.
My daughter is funny... really funny. In fact, when I read her blogs, I'm usually holding my sides and gasping for air while I hoot and holler in hysterical laughter. I've heard some people say this is a sin... but honestly, it feels SO good that I have a hard time believing it.
I am not funny... AND, furthermore, I'm TERRIBLE at telling jokes. My brother, Barry is great at it. He can take the stupidest joke in the universe and make it hysterically funny, without even trying. Why is that? I think he was born funny. I wasn't... I was only born.
When I tell a joke, I either forget the punch line altogether or else (on those few occasions when I can actually remember it) I start laughing so hard before I get there, that it takes all the fun out of it for everyone... except me. My friends will look at me, blink... blink again... and if they're feeling particularly charitable, give a mild courtesy laugh.
That said, I laugh easily and my other friends, the funny ones, tell me that I'm gratifying to have around when they happen to be engaging in joke time. I frequently burst out in laughter as soon as I figure out that there is going to be a punch line... not that I've necessarily figured out what it is. Just the thought that something funny is coming starts up the laughter. By the time they actually get to the punch line, I'm rolling on the floor, unable to breathe from my supercilious fits of anticipated mirth.
Anyway...
I may not be funny, but I'm beginning to think I might be seriously OCD... or, as the saying goes: "CDO, in alphabetical order... the way that it SHOULD be".
While I don't do humor naturally... OCD is another story. Here's just one of about a gazillion examples:
This week, I decided to get "organized" and actually "prepare" a lesson for nursery. I spent hours getting ready... um... or... days.
I decided that we should have a "Christmas lesson" where we talk about how Jesus lived in heaven before he was born, that we all lived in heaven with him before we were born. I could use a puppet to demonstrate the old "glove over the hand" object lesson, teaching how our bodies house our spirits. I knew their attention spans would be short, so I thought it might make it a little more interesting if I did iron-on transfers of the children's faces onto their own little puppets. It would be such an awesome object lesson as their little cherubic fingers were covered by the "mortality" of their individual hand puppets.
We have TWELVE (12) children in our nursery.
Of course, this required not only creating a pattern, cutting out and sewing TWELVE child sized puppets, but trying to "friend" all those children's parents on facebook, and then getting permission from each parent to use their pictures, then searching through scads of albums for said 12 children, finding the best photo of each, dragging it into a photo shop program, cropping, editing, saving and transferring the individual faces onto iron on transfer paper, eventually adorning the front of each puppet. Did I mention that we have 12 children in nursery...
Enter, the end of the week and me, shaking my head, wondering how I let this project get SO out of hand. However, it wasn't the only one.
Another idea I had to make our class a little more organized was to make a "fishing game". My own children LOVED this game when they were toddlers. It consisted of a bowl and several painted cardboard fish with paper clips on their noses. A dowel and a long string with a magnet at the end made up the fishing pole. Each and every night from their babyhood on, for years and years, my children played the fishing game. Each fish had a song "attached" to it. We would sing several fun songs, have prayer and put them to bed in a very happy way.
Back to nursery.
After searching the internet, I found several pictures of some very cool fish. Back in the old days I had to paint them, but now, thanks to the wonder of computers, I was able to print out Speckled Gouramis, Fancy Gold fish, beautiful Fighting Betas and even a Great White shark. I was so proud of myself! I knew that a couple of the boys in our nursery would especially love the shark.
I spent hours trying to remember every fun song that we used to sing with the kids (I got 34 out 60... which I thought was particularly exceptional for my vanishing brain cells). I then printed the fish out on card stock, did a mirror image printing, so they would be the same on each side, painstakingly cut out each and every fish with cramped tiny scissors, so as to include every detail, then glued them all together, bought magnets, fixed them onto the noses, made the pole and packed them all away (into neat and tidy baggies, of course... just to keep them organized) for nursery.
After I finished with the fish, I printed out pictures to every song I could think of, horses, ducks, birds, happy faces, frowny faces, school buses, etc, with craft stix attached to the bottoms for each child to hold.
I had such grand visions of the great time we would have, all sitting around in a circle - of perfect symmetry, of course - their rapt attention glued to every detail of my diligent preparations as we harmoniously engaged in our suddenly organized singing time.
Ha ha ha! WHAT was I thinking! It happened something like this:
"I have a new game," I announced.
The children stopped running wild for about 3 nano-seconds.
"Ooh! Look at the fish! Now, here's how we play the game. I'll choose someone who is sitting quietly to..."
That's pretty much as far as I got before they ALL began grabbing the fish and claiming each of their favorites, shoving them into my face as I fell back on the floor, and clamoring: "MINE! MINE! MINE!"
We did manage a few songs (while I subtly collected whatever precious fish I could retrieve, trying to rethink another approach for next week before secretly shoving them back into their baggies, hiding them from view. I would indulge in re-organizing them later... after all, I had worked HARD on those fish.
While the kids appeared to be fully appreciative my artistic efforts, the main plan at containing them long enough for music time wasn't exactly going according to planned tactical strategy.
We did manage about 3 songs before they all began running amok in circles again, gleefully skipping to my singular solos (Kirk wasn't there today to at least make it our regular duet). I have to admit... I missed Kirk today.
In the end, all was not lost. I learned a valuable tip... Now I know, regardless of my OCD nature, when we do the puppets, I have a 30 second window before I've lost them. Despite my preconceived visions of heavenly perfection... it will go something like this:
"Okay, children, everyone sit down for our Christmas lesson. (Start the mental stop watch, while holding up a picture of Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus in the manger). This was Jesus. He was born and so were you. Here are your puppets. Merry Christmas! The end."
Ha ha ha. I may not be funny, but I'm SO OCD... that's gotta count for something.
Next week... maybe I'll just leave the fish, safe at home. :o)
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