I know, I know, I just finished an entry about VBS. What more could I possibly have to say about it? Well, since I essentially wound up volunteering at a third one, a whole damn lot.
The week at my planned volunteer stop has been fine, if a bit odd. When you find yourself outdoors during a thunderstorm, surrounded by seven year-olds attempting to make fake blood, you really have to rethink your life choices. The forecast called for storms, it was raining before I even got to VBS that morning, but with the faith of God behind them, everyone at VBS assured me that it wasn’t going to storm. It did. Violently. Loudly. Wetly. And there I was, with my adult leader, a handful of teenagers, and the aforementioned seven year olds, trying to teach kids about the viscosity of our bodily fluids. Why? I have no idea because I couldn’t hear the lesson being offered at the other end of the table since the thunder kept rolling over all of our words. We couldn’t even see past the confines of our tent – which I have to admit, kept us nice and dry. The second tent housing our supplies was also relatively dry – however, the two inch gap between the tents made those of us who had to go back and forth to get stuff pretty wet. Thankfully, I’m pretty sure any naughty thoughts brought on by our soaking white t-shirts was ruined by the religious logos covering our girly bits (and by the fact that I’m too old to even be a MILF to these kids). The rest of the week was pretty tame in comparison.
But here is where things got wonky. My kids attend a preschool that is affiliated with a church. As it turns out, that church was running a nighttime VBS for free, dinner included, and was being led by Mr. Steve. You’ve never heard of Mr. Steve? http://www.thebigsbyshow.com/ He officially goes by the name of Bigsby and he sings children’s Christian music. In fact, he sings it at my kids’ school and they love it like chocolate and ice cream and puppies and rainbows. When he put on a free concert for the school, those kids rocked out. They swarmed the stage, knew the words to every song, and would have waved lighters in the air if they were allowed to play with fire yet. His is the only children’s CD allowed in my car and putting on his music is certain to soothe my savage beasts back to sensibility as they invariably stop hitting each other long enough to sing along. And while Christian music isn’t my usual choice of music (like ever), his stuff really is catchy. So how could I pass up a chance for them to listen to their own personal Dave Matthews?
I didn’t. I wound up taking them to not one, but two VBS’s per day. And since the boy isn’t potty trained, I had to stay in case of accidents. And since a good portion of the kids knew me, but didn’t know the women running the program, I became, quite by accident, a volunteer. I helped with crafts. I helped serve drinks. I helped resolve disputes. I watched Mr. Steve lead his merry band of followers in a variety of activities and they loved every minute of it. And I, well I didn’t have to cook and the food was pretty yummy and since my husband didn’t make it in the door before 9pm most nights, at least it gave me something to do.
But now? I am done. Done. Done. Done. It was lovely to be of service, and I have racked up quite a few karma points in my favor, but damn, am I tired of small children and religion.