The power of suggestion is incredible with three-year-olds.

This last week our church, along with a neighboring church, held Vacation Bible School.  I volunteered to help.

When they told me I would be in with the toddlers, I thought that sounded like fun.  My mother told me I was crazy.

Okay, so I had sort of forgotten that they are in constant motion, that they have more energy than a live wire, and that their attention spans are maybe five minutes.

And there were seventeen of them.  Seventeen is a lot of when you’re talking about little people.  All in one room.  Seventeen short little attention spans.  Seventeen little minds working overtime trying to figure out how not to stay still.  Seventeen little voices, usually going at the same time.  And usually it’s one little voice that gets all the rest going.

One says, “I’m going to color my clouds red.”  Now there’s a burst of activity, everybody wants colored clouds, each one wants a color she or he doesn’t have.

Another says, “Can I take off my shoes?”  Now everybody is taking off his or her shoes. 

A little boy asks, “Can I get a drink of water?”  Suddenly all of them are extremely thirsty.

Ditto on going to the bathroom.  It takes a long time to usher seventeen little people through the bathroom.  It takes even longer because they all love the soap dispenser, and each one takes about five squirts.  The paper towel dispenser is pretty much fun, too, because they get to pull down the lever and towels squirt out.  The dispenser runs out after the second day.

Three-year-olds also say what’s on their mind.  Whenever. It. Happens. To. Hit. Them.

We were in the middle of story time.  It was this great story about a woman who found a baby in a river.  The storyteller asked, “Can you imagine finding a baby?”  One little boy had his hand in the air, waving wildly. 

“Yes?” she asked. 

“My dad gots a new truck,” he answered.

The music lady came by our room and had the children gathered around her.  She sang several great songs the kids all knew and sang along.  She asked if anyone had a favorite one they’d like to sing next.

Hands were waving.  She called on one.

“My little brother picked his scab.  And it was bleeding.”

Three-year-olds are also brutally honest.

If you have bad breath, you’ll hear about it.  They’ll ask you why you have wrinkles, and they’ll tell you they don’t like your shoes.

I’ll never forget when I took my then-three-year-old son to visit my mother at her office.  She was taking us around, proudly introducing her first grandson to her coworkers.

One lady patted his fat little cheeks and said, “You are sooooo cute!”

He looked her up and down and replied, “And you are sooooo fat.”

I loved her comeback, “Yes, but I’m also sooooo jolly!”