the perfect genuflect

And after my after school playing with my three-doors-down BFF, Lynn Marstall,

And while my grandpa put the finishing touches on dinner,

But before my grandma, and aunt Katie, and mom got home from work, 

My grandpa and I would watch syndicated shows together: Facts of Life for me, followed by The Jeffersons for us, and followed by the opening scenes of TAXI for him. And while The Facts of Life surely never appealed to him, TAXI never appealed to me. But we enjoyed each other, and that was the only part that mattered anyway. 

I remember nothing of TAXI, save one episode, one scene, that I actually found amusing. 

In this episode, in this scene, one character is studying for a driver's test--why a show about taxi drivers contained a person without a driver's license escapes me at the moment, but nevertheless...there it was. 

Another character in the scene was helping him study. 

The quizzer asked the quiz-ee, "What does a yellow light mean?" And the quiz-ee responded, "Go slower."

So the quizzer asked, "What...does...a...yellow...light...mean?"

And the quiz-ee said, "Go slower."

"Whaaaat...doessss...a...yelllllowww...lightttt...mean?"

"Go slower."

"Whaaaat..........does......"

And on and on it went. You get the point. It was rather amusing--even to me.

On Tuesdays, if we ever do not have Mass for any reason, Mrs. Kleckner and I take the 2nd graders to Adoration. And while Mass takes place in the church, proper, Adoration takes place in the Chapel. 

The former Assumption Church, before the new one was built, the Chapel is a Divine space. A holy and immaculate peace occupies the place. A profound silence, one that is rarely disturbed--even by 7 and 8 year olds. 

Now, before Adoration today, I had prepped the 2nd grade that they would only be sitting three to a pew. One all the way down at the end. One in the middle. One right on the edge. 

And since I do not want to disturb the silence (for the most part), I told them, "After you genuflect, I will point far if I want you all the way down at the end, point middle if I want you in the middle, and point directly in front of me if I want you on the edge."

We even practiced what my motions would look like. A far point for all the way down at the end. A middle-ish point for the middle. A near point if I want the student on the edge nearest to the center aisle. 

We always enter in the side door and process to the back before coming down the front aisle to access our seats in the pews. Once our procession stopped, I gestured for the first student to genuflect to the altar, then pointed far. The student walked the length of the pew and sat at the far end.

The next student genuflected and I pointed middle-ish. She processed to the middle of the pew and sat down. The third genuflected and I pointed to the edge of the pew, the aisle seat, and she sat. 

I stepped back to the fourth student in line and gestured for him to genuflect, which he did. A brief genuflection, but it hardly mattered to me. He stood back up and I pointed far down the pew, but he didn't move. I gestured far again, and reminded him, "...all the way down." 

And he genuflected again. 

Okay.

So, I gestured again and whispered, "...all the way down."

He did the big eyes of mild embarrassment and genuflected yet again. 

When he stood back up, I gestured again. To the end of the pew. "Okay..." I said, "now go all the way down." 

At that he was absolutely exasperated by me and started to genuflect AGAIN--just barely checking an eye roll. 

Just then then I realized that we were, essentially, living out that old TAXI scene. Every time I said, "go all the way down," he thought I was taking exception to the depth of his kneeling down--having not really noticed my pointing, nor remembering our earlier instructions.

"No!" I giggled right there in the middle of Adoration when I realized what was happening. I grabbed his shoulders so he wouldn't genuflect again.

"Go all the way down to the end of the pew, is what I mean."

And, finally, he did. Still rather befuddled by the whole thing.

But, you know. Even as I sit here tonight, I'm not entirely sure that he understands what I meant. And I think there might be some tiny part of him that wonders about his new 2nd grade teacher--that this whole entire year he's stuck with some batty old fool who is a real stickler for the perfect deep genuflect.