And the Camel You Rode in on...

A YMCA had hired me to tell stories to their three and four year olds for two sessions. I'd already been out once and had a good time with the kids. They were still young and wanted to talk and stand up during the session.
I arrived early and the kids were still in another classroom. The counselors were getting plastic bins together and two of the children were waiting. When I entered, they ran up to me. One said, “You're the farmer from last time.” I was wearing overalls and a brown hat, so I really couldn't deny it.
“Yep, that was me,” I said.
The other girl with hair Goldilocks would have been proud of said, “I know my mommy's first name.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“Georgia!” she squealed with delight at her furtive knowledge.
I decided to play dumb. “George? That's a funny name for a mom.”
“No!” she protested with a smile. “Georgia!”
“Georgie? That's a pretty name.”
“No! No! Georgia! Georgia! Georgia!” she laughed with delight.
“Oh! Georgia. That's a pretty name.”
“What's your daddy's name?” The other girl asked me.
“You're not going to believe this, but his name is Bobby?”
“Bobby?” They giggled as they put their hands over their mouths. “That's silly.” Goldilocks asked me, “What kind of car did you drive here in?”
“Car? I didn't drive here.” They both looked at me mystified.
“Well how did you get here?”
“I rode on a camel.”
“Really? Where is it?”
“It's outside tied up front.” I motioned with my thumb to the parking lot in front of the complex.
“Can we go see it?” I knew that I was in trouble. I had originally said that because I thought that they wouldn't believe it and have a good laugh about it. Now, I had these little girls looking up at me with expect little girl eyes. I dodged.
“Maybe later after the telling.” The rest of the class was arriving. Whew! Maybe they would forget.
I commenced the telling and they had matured in the month I had been gone. They sat and participated where appropriate. Unfortunately, my wish that they forgot about the camel was not on their agenda. Instead, they'd formed a minor communications network and the camel news had spread like a pant's wetting accident. When I finished, I asked, “Does anyone have any questions?”
Questions peppered out, “Can we see your camel?” “Can we pet it?” “What color is it?” That's when I knew that the piper had to be paid his due.
“Well boys and girls, I have to tell you the truth. I didn't ride here on a camel.” I was expecting a gasp of disappointment, instead one boy asked, “What color is it?”
“Uh,... red, no maroon.”
“Maroon?”
“Like that shield up there.” I pointed to the YMCA insignia above the door which included as one of its core values 'Honesty'. They seemed satisfied. I left as quickly as I could. As I walked under that insignia, I reflected on what I'd done. Had I scarred them for life? Would they trust an adult again? How could I have done that?
Then I considered it. A camel. That would have been cool.
- posted by Brian Herod @ 10:14 PM