church & buck the truck

i'm still in the middle of Traveling Mercies by Anne Lamott and i just finished the chapter about taking her little boy to church. i started thinking about my childhood experiences at church...at least when i was around 4...here is what came to mind

i hated the song Jesus loves me because i thought it was childish!

my mom would roll my hair in the pink sponge rollers on saturday night so my hair would be curly in the morning and i loved it!

my dad would fix a big breakfast every sunday morning with eggs and bacon and biscuits, but i never ate the biscuits

i would get lifesavers to suck on during "big church" to keep me quiet and still

my mom wouldn't let me bring my doll into church because she thought i would play with it. but really i just wanted my doll to experience "big church"

i would always go by and say hi to my old sunday school teacher, Mrs. Tucker. wow, what an amazing lady.

and of course being 4 reminds me of my dear old friend Buck the Truck...I'm sure many of you who know me have heard this story...but for those who haven't, here it is.

My dad had an old green truck when i was little and we called him Buck the truck. my dad let me play in his truck bed and pretend drive him. so i used buck like my playhouse...and we were buds. but one day i thought that buck needed fuel. so, i looked around to find what i could use as "gas". I found a bunch of rocks. so, i put as many rocks as i could find in his tank...buck didn't drive as well after that. my dad took him to a mechanic to find out what was wrong with him...the mechanic finally figured out that there were rocks in his gas tank. my dad didn't have to wonder how they got there.