Biting off more than I can chew?
I do a thing for my church's Sunday school a couple times a year. We have the kids divided up into 4 classes, so for a month, every Sunday I do an art project with each class. We have inscribed hieroglyphics depicting Joseph's dreams in clay, made stained glass windows with icons of the last supper, once I dressed as an Egyptian slave driver and forced the kids to mix clay, sand, water, and straw, make bricks, and build little pyramids. All the kids know me so they had a lot of fun while acted like a slave-driver, yelling at them to work harder and such in that grown-up, fake growl voice. All except one new kid who I think almost started to cry before I realized he was new. So I had to break character, get down on my knees and explain in the nicest voice possible that I was just pretending, and that he didn't have to play at all. I wonder if I scarred him for life. Maybe his only memory of church will be a giant guy in a yellow dress yelling at kids to mix fas...