You Can't Touch This (oh oh oh oh...oh oh)

I had a memory this morning of me as a little girl, sitting at church with my family. The lady in front of us was wearing an over-sized, chocolate-colored fur coat, and it was all I could do for the entire length of mass not to touch it. I wanted to rub it, put my fingers through it, and bundle up inside it all Eskimo-like. Oh, the sweet, cozy, cuddly softness. I did ever-so-slightly get a few strokes in that morning, all the while my dad was giving me those Katie, please don't touch strangers look.

Well, this morning I was praying after communion and listening to the choir. I opened my eyes in time to see Rose reaching over the pew in front of us, and grabbing hold of some lady's long, flowing, silky, black hair. I whispered for her not to touch the lady, and you know, gave her the please don't touch strangers look, but she couldn't help herself. Her arm extended over that pew at least two more times. You know she had to be curious, coming from a short hair sort of family.

We spend our whole lives being told not to touch things. Don't touch the stove. It may be hot. Don't touch that vase. It may shatter all over the floor. No honey, you may not wrap yourself up in the nice lady's broom skirt. Lucy, do not touch Mommy's white shirt with macaroni on your hands. I have to admit, it's hard for me to resist a pregnant belly (yes, I guess I'm one of those people), and I can't pass a pair of bongos without giving them a tap tap tap.

So if we spend our lives being told not to touch things, and as parents spend countless times telling our children not to touch things, I wonder how I missed it...a teachable moment for little Lucy...about keeping her hands inside the cart...at Petco...near the Betta fish display.

"Oh no she di-n't." Oh yes she di-id.

She had just learned to say "fishy," which was adorable, I must admit. And, can you blame her? He was swimming around, showing off his beautiful, brilliant colors, and large, flowing fins...he never saw her coming.