Lessons from Primary

I have been teaching the six year olds in Primary ever since we moved to Portland. I really enjoy my calling. It's so rewarding when the kids tell me scripture stories that they remember from class and are visibly excited to get baptised and go on missions. We have a lot of fun together, and there have been many memorable days. Sure, some days the lesson is on tithing and we all somehow get sidetracked talking about lose teeth and the Tooth Fairy, but I figure that it is all part of the experience. There is one particular day that I remember quite fondly.

I can't really remember what the lesson was on, but there was a story in the manual about a girl that was sick and her friend decided to bring her chicken noodle soup to help her get better. Once I was finished telling the story, one of my students raised his hand to say something.

Me: Did you have something to share, Bobby (*name has been changed to protect the innocent :) *)

Bobby: Yes, Sister Earley, I have something to say.

Me: Go ahead, Bobby. (Pleased that the little boy had raised his hand).

Bobby: I just want to say that I have a sickness, too.

Me: Oh, dear. That is not good. Do you need me to take you to your parents?

Bobby: No, I don't think so.

Me: Ok, well, just let me know if you need me to take you to your mom. I hope you start feeling better.

Bobby: Me too.

I attempt to continue with the lesson, when Bobby raises his hand once more.

Me: Yes, Bobby.

Bobby: I would like to tell you about my sickness now.

Me: (slightly unsure where this is going to go) Ok, Bobby. As long as it's not too detailed.

Bobby: (With the most serious face) It's ... diarrhea.

Wow, wasn't expecting that one. I don't know what it is about excrement that is so funny, but I tried the hardest I could not to laugh. It didn't work. My face went red and I had to look away so that he would not see me. My husband was co-teaching with me that particular day and looked at me in absolute horror. He clearly did not find it as funny as I did.

Bobby politely raises his hand again.

Me: (Desperately trying to compose myself) Yes, Bobby.

Bobby: It's not nice to laugh at people that are sick.

Me: Your right, Bobby. It's not. I am so sorry.

That sad thing is that out of a room filled with six year olds, I was the only one laughing. Who is the mature one in this situation? Clearly, I have a long way to go.