Noogies on the Loose in Primary

Last Sunday I was sitting in Primary, the LDS version of children's Sunday school. Little Julia was sitting on my lap, clutching her little stuffed sheep tightly to her chest. She and I have finally developed a working relationship that allows her to be separated from her parents during church. She's a darling little girl, always clothed in a dainty dress with a bow perched in her perfect hair. She's very quiet in class and typically keeps to herself. I can't help but love the kid, though. She's really endearing, particularly when she's amused by something and her eyes start snapping.

I worry about her being in my class, though, since it consists mostly of rowdy boys. Perhaps the rowdiest of them all, dear little Adam, was sitting next to us at the time. He loves to stir up activity by bumping and poking the kids around him. He's not malicious; he never hurts anyone. He just loves action. He also cannot resist a quiet child. So right in the middle of singing time, he reached over and poked little Julia in the ribs. I gave him the, "Keep your hands to yourself, buster!" laser glare as I kept singing. Julia turned her face up to mine, smiled her sweetest smile, and asked me to hold her sheep. I replied, "Sure, sweetie," and took hold of the sheep.

With her hands now free, Julia was ready for action. Usually I see stuff like this coming several seconds before it happens, but this one took me completely by surprise. In one swift motion, Julia swung around in my lap, grabbed Adam in a chokehold, and started vigorously rubbing the top of his spiked-haired little head with her right fist.

I'm pretty sure that my mouth hit the ground. My first thought was disbelief that the little angel knew how to give a noogie. My second thought was even greater disbelief that she knew how to do it well. It wasn't until my third thought that I began to be concerned about poor little Adam's spiked-haired head, which is probably why it took me at least three full seconds to react and drag her off the boy.

After I got her settled back on my lap, I whispered to her that noogies didn't belong in church. With complete confidence and snapping eyes, she whispered back, "Doogies are good." Considering that Adam kept to himself for the rest of singing time, I couldn't really disagree with her.