Working in the church nursery

Scott has been bugging me to post a blog...and I really want to...I happen to just be leading a very nondescript life presently. I have a fake trial on thursday as a part of my training, and until I pass that trial, I'm not allowed to take any cases....and we really haven't had any cases. Last night, I tried to break the monotony by doing lunges and squats in my cubicle. I definitely hope my ninja skills let me go unnoticed because I would have looked the sight...as my head bobbed up and down over my cubicle wall. I even tried to do pushups but I'm a little too tall and my head sticks out into the hallway...and, at such a close range, I discovered that the rug was probably not originally brown andgreen to begin with.

It's only Monday but nursery was probably the highlight for me. I stepped in at the 8 am service because they seemed to have a lot of kids and 40% of them seemed to be wailing as if their little hearts were breaking. I focused on "mahina" since she was a first-time toddler and I tried all my tried-and-true tricks. I did the bouncing...the swaying.....the bubbles...the money and none of it hindered the flow of tears or the hanabata now all over her face. And then Scott was adding to the pandemonium by trying to talk to me over the nursery gate and I was trying to pay attention when I heard a small little sound...and years of working in the nursery and some smelly past experiences kicked in and I promptly leaned to one side as mahina projectile vomited over my shoulder, right past my hair and onto the floor. All I can say is, thank you, victoria. She was a little girl who had a thing for crying so hard she made herself sick. Getting thrown up on every saturday for 4 months gave me quick reflexes. And there are only two places where that reflex may come in handy...nursery and college.

This is an oldie but goodie.