one, two, three, four, five, 6....

They told me 6.

Not.

Monday and Tuesday of this week was definitely an adventure for me. In a sense. The pastor of my church had a seminar he was attending and apparently people were going to be bringing their children. Who, of course, since their parents would be occupied with the seminar, would need watching. So he asked me if I would go with them for an overnight stay at the Quality Inn in the city and be nanny.

No.

I've never had to watch over children before, at least not officially, and before I could even consider it, horrible images of children running around, screaming and yelling, falling, spilling, destroying! everything in their path, were running through my mind. Not to mention little ones getting hurt, and it being my fault for the simple fact that I'm the oldest one there. Hell no.

I packed Sunday night, and Monday morning, I woke up early to drive to my church where I would ride with my paster to the Quality Inn. ...Turns out if I turned this down they would have to go find a random stranger with a whoknowswhatkindofscarypast. Nobody wants that. So I just thought of it as experience and said yes.

What an experience.

They told me 6. I was expecting 6. It was NOT 6.
Nine. 9. That's 50% more volume.

But, nothing super out-of-the-ordinary happened... thank goodness. Nobody got seriously hurt, nobody died or got dysentery, but I did get a super sah-lammin' headache. And a reminder of why I'll never teach elementary school. Or middle school. Not that I want to teach at all, just sayin'.

I'll leave the rest of the fine details to your imagination.