I'm Afraid I'm Old

I've begun teaching the 9- and 10-year-olds in Primary at church. This was our second week together. They seem to be just as bad as the little kids when it comes to sitting still. They sit quietly for an hour of Sacrament Meeting and then are expected to come sit quietly and learn in class. I was a bit perplexed by how we can remedy this. I have no problem teaching, I even considered being a Shakespearean college professor. But that's adults that want to sit and learn. If they don't want to learn, they'll get drunk the night before and not show up for class (I knew several of these types). I came up with what I thought would be a great segue into class: we go around the room and everyone gives their favorite thing that happened during the week. Great, no problem, good times. Then I began thinking...what was I doing at their age? This is the point when my stomach twists into knots at the realization that, gulp, I'm old.


When I was 10, at the end of my fourth grade year, my dad had two tickets to see the President of the United States and Vice President as they boarded Air Force One at a base in New Orleans, LA. Dad actually took me. We rode this bus across the base to the airstrip. The bus was pretty full, so I thought it would be cool to be able to grab the handle along the top of the roof of the bus like everyone does in the movies, but I was a good foot too short. I jumped, but missed. I don't know why I thought jumping would work. Even if I grabbed it I'd just be hanging in the air in the middle of a bus. Anyway, we finally got to the airstrip and Dad, being the socially adept man he is, made friends with the Secret Service Agent standing near us. We were barricaded back from the aircraft, but close enough that we could get a picture of the president as he was boarding the plane. One of the reporters was able to ask the president if he knew who his vice president was going to choose as his own vice president when he ran for office in November. Now, this may sound like a great story to have as a 10-yr-old, but when I think of the kids I'm teaching and trying to identify with, I feel like I need to break out a cane and Efferdent. The president I got to see was Ronald Reagan. His vice president, George H. Bush, was keeping his vice president hopeful (Dan Quayle) under wraps for a few more weeks. Yeah, when I was 10 George Sr was CONSIDERING running for president. Where the heck does time go? How am I supposed to identify with a generation that doesn't even know the whole Dan Quayle potato/potatoe scandal? Remember when the tabloids got a great story from a misspelling rather than sordid marital affairs and pregnant teenage daughters? Remember when gas was $1.20/gallon? Remember when I had to walk to school uphill both ways? In knee-deep snow, nonetheless.


Today at church Matt was trying to squish into Emma because he didn't want to sit at the end of our family row. Emma told him he could sit on her lap. He looked at her disgustedly and said, "No! Sit on your own lap!" I don't even know what that means.