For the next nine months at church, I will be part of a duo, teaching twenty, six-year old children. Roll Kuchen - I shall be forever grateful to you - I think. I just get chickens, kittens and Violinist off my hands and she returns the favour like this.
"Yes, I can help - oh, I like little kids," I said.
Last night we had the teachers' meeting, after which I went home and dreamed the following.
I was playing the Wicked Witch of the West. Frantically, I applied make-up with a diaper and rushed to enter the stage, only then realizing I didn't know my lines. Panicking, I asked someone what my lines were, but they didn't speak English. Desperately I reached for a script on a prop table but an actor picked up the booklet, handed me a bag filled with scissors, glue, cookies and toys saying, "Just ad lib."
Looking up I saw a little monkey teetering atop a pole stacked precariously with books, laughing and having the time of his life. And another monkey and another monkey and another one, and on and on - dozens of little monkeys, some wearing little pink tutus, others in little denim overalls - all making little screeching sounds. The music was getting louder and louder. I had to go on. Just then I woke up - 0615 - Buff and Fun laughing in the bathroom brushing their teeth, Fun's iPod played music. GG snored. I could hear the cats playing outside our window.
Here's my interpretation. We go to a church which has English and German language services. After holding high up into the air to show us bags, filled with badges, Roll Kuchen stacked books and bags and memory verse sheets and pouches on the table in front of us and then continued discussing banners and crests and crafts and pine block car derbys and prayer times and games and music and snacks and t-shirts. My partner and I sat scratching our heads over our teacher manuals, which at first glance, seemed a little confusing. Decadent Housewife morphed into the Wicked Witch of the West since we are to create all by ourselves, some sort of talent show for our class.
And, on the way home after picking up Buff from work at The Chicken Place, I told him about the teachers' meeting.
"Why don't you have them act out Noah's Ark? You have just about enough kids," he grinned.
"Thanks, Buff. Can you help?"
"No, but the monkeys could come on last because they would be busy having fun bouncing on the bed."
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