I will be the first to admit that the very thought of being a catechist for 6th graders literally scared the living daylights right out of me when I grudgingly signed up for the job last spring. My thinking was that the sweet little innocent faces of previous years would be no more at the middle school level. Instead, I pictured myself looking out into a classroom of sinister faces attached to bodies that were almost as tall as, if not taller, than me as they chucked stones at my head while I attempted to teach Catholic stuff to them. And I’m not into painful teaching experiences. Not in this lifetime, anyway. But I digress.

As it turns out my thinking was warped, apparently, because I have gotten the biggest kick out of teaching these youngsters over the past several weeks. I mean, who wouldn’t after this priceless moment:

• Them: Can you give us a quick talk about the last part? We want to have time for a game, you know, like ‘Heads Up, 7-Up’.
• Me: You want me to summarize?
• Them: Yeah, if you could.
• Me: Ok, sure. So basically your body will die someday, just like Jesus’… but…
• Them:*snicker-giggle-snort*
• Me: looks up at class as they hold back laughter
  What’s funny about that?
• Them: You just said something about Jesus’ BUTT.
  *muted laughter*
• Me: rolls eyes *laugh* Great. Ok yes, busted by the CCD police.

Summary over, then we were on with game playing time as promised. Only, seeing as how I haven’t actually played ‘Heads Up, 7-Up’ in centuries and needed a refresher course, one of the students pipes in with: ‘So how old are you anyway? 85? No really, 22?’

Yes, I’m exactly 22.

Imagine the surprise on my fine 6th graders faces as they took home a few extra treats that day, thanks to a certain gloating 22 year-old catechist who just erased a good chunk of years from her age. Although, we won’t talk about the fact that 12 year-old’s think 20 is ancient. Completely unnecessary.

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