My mother-in-law likes to tell me Baby Daddy was the perfect child. On some level, I actually believe her. He’s just good, you know. He’s not a goody goody. He’s made his fair share of mischief. But he always seems know where the line is between fun and blazing stupidity, which seems to elude so many, myself included.
This weekend, Monkey Boy found an old drawer of junk from Baby Daddy’s past when he was rummaging around at his grandparents. He produced a trophy declared his father won FIRST PLACE – SUNDAY SCHOOL.
Keep in mind this would have been awarded in the 1970s. This was, as David Sedaris says, “before they invented self-esteem.” So it’s not like everyone got a trophy, especially not a first place one. I was baffled. HOW would a child win such a thing? I inquired of my mother-in-law. She couldn’t remember. The only thing she could come up with was that he was the perfect child, obviously.
I could not let it go. Mockery is the only possible reaction to finding out your husband was FIRST in SUNDAY SCHOOL. Was he a particularly good flannel graph story-teller? Did he know all the words and motions for church camp songs and sing them on command? I bet he never threw up on his teacher or showed off his ruffled panties…. like.I.did.
My father-in-law could take my ridiculous speculation no longer. He told me there had been a point system. Each child was awarded points for various categories: attendance, Bible brought, memory verse learned, offering given, etc. At the end of the year, the child with the most points got a trophy. Baby Daddy was the model Sunday School student, so he had the most points running away. I was feeling feisty, so I challenged the notion he was THAT good a kid.
That was when the real truth came to light. “He absolutely had the most points!” my father-in-law sputtered defensively. “I know. I added them up.”
I’m reasonably sure the statute of limitations has passed on a recount. But obviously this award is tainted.