A Case of the Wiggles

Our primary program was this past Sunday and apparently they didn't sing the "wiggles song" beforehand to get the wiggles out of my daughter.

The previous four years I have been involved with the program, having been in charge of it for the last three. So this year was my first year free from the stress of the program. I didn't think much about the program until a friend and counselor in my primary presidency turned to me to say how weird it felt not to be involved. I had to agree. As the primary children began to sing, there was a moment when a wave of panic hit me and I thought, "Am I in charge? Ah, I don't know what's supposed to happen." But that wave quickly passed, only to bring with it a new wave of nerves as I realized my contribution to the program this year was to provide a wiggly sunbeam, Mally. These are the wiggly things she did during the program:

• Picked her nose and ate her boogers.
• Licked the top of the wood half-wall she sat behind.
• Waved and said out loud, "Hi mom and dad" at three different times.
• Faced backwards for one whole verse of "How Firm a Foundation."
• Stood up and down at random times.
• Turned to her neighbor to show her where her mom and dad were.
• Sang opera style anytime a note was held out. Meaning she would wiggle her head with her mouth wide open and eyes closed.

In her defense, I was proud to see her singing her heart out. To watch her from a distance performing and thoroughly enjoying singing was truly a moment when I could see she was my daughter and just like me. And for a moment she even looked like me. Maybe that was when she was singing opera style.

Maybe none of you noticed Mally's wiggles because like me you were too busy nervously watching your own child. Apparently this is the case, because when talking to a friend about the program she hadn't noticed Mally's weirdness at all. She wanted to know if I noticed her girl sleeping one moment and then pushing her neighbor the next. I hadn't noticed. And I guess I also missed one boy punching another girl and making her cry and another boy looking ridiculous as he over-enunciated every word in the songs. Strangely, I find great comfort knowing other kids are maybe just as wiggly as mine.