| Sunny Side Up Sept. 3, 2003 �2003, Kathleen Gibson A silver thing and a prayer Our church's guest speakers had three youngsters, livewires all. "Will you take them the playroom while their parents speak?" the Preacher asked. "Sure, no problem," I said, forgetting how long it had been since I played nanny. Off we went to the playroom. "Nothing to play with in here," said they, glancing scornfully at the too-well-used box of toys. Desperate to stop a race back to the sanctuary, I offered to tell a story. "Yes!" said three-year-old Kavanah, clambering onto my lap. "Little Red Riding Hood!" I began. "Once upon a time�." Five-year-old Kenrick rummaged about in the toybox, stirring it idly, one eye on the door. He's planning his escape, I thought, with sinking heart. Little Red Riding Hood stumbled over a fallen tree in the inky shadowed woods. Kenrick pulled something silver from the toybox. "This looks like a gun. What is it? It's a kind of handle, what's it for?" "Kenrick, listen to the story," Kavanah scolded. If I stopped to answer Kenrick, I'd lose the squirmer on my lap. If I kept on, I'd lose Kenrick. Using my certified literary licence, I plunked that silver thing right onto Red Riding Hood's path. As she puzzled over its identity, a large green snake slithered along. "King Kenrick," he hissed, "can sssolve this mysssstery. He livessss in the palaccccce over yonder." Kenrick's eyes widened. He perched on the arm of my chair. Baby Jayedon fidgeted now, so I locked him in a vast orange room deep in the palace, along with "the incredible, exquisite, wondrous�.Princess Kavanah!" Kavanah giggled and cuddled closer. Jayedon stopped fidgeting and listened. Little Red Riding Hood, the snake, and the silver thing (after perilous adventures) finally reached the palace. There they encountered a knight, a large stuttering fellow, who was "s-s-s-o, s-s-s-sorry, but K-K-K-King Kenrick is out hu-hu-hu-hunting for�.wi-wi-wibbles this afternoon!" He agreed to take them to find the King on the condition that they help him rescue the Princess and the royal heir, baby Jayedon. I was having fun now. The troop came to a colossal, a vast, a GARGANTUAN staircase. "SSSSnakes hate ssssstairs,' said the reptile, thrashing and slithering up the first. The children's faces came close to mine. As I looked into those six saucer-wide eyes, a dreadful realization struck me: They really believe this story has some kind of satisfactory ending! "Lord," I prayed silently, "I could die here at the hands of these kids. You gotta rescue me. Please." I reached deep for another sentence. Found it. Again, and again. My shirt stuck to my back, my forehead was damp, but I was as amazed at the exploits of those babes in the palace as the children. ..."and the silver thing fit the keyhole perfectly! And they all lived happily ever after," I said, finally. (Thank you, Jesus!) Kavanah and Jayedon sighed contentedly. As if on cue, their mother opened the playroom door. And Kenrick held up the silver thing. "Mom, what is this anyway?" You can respond to this column at [email protected] |
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