So I was driving into work this morning and a scenario from a couple years ago was playing through my mind. It was winter retreat 2008, and we had just arrived at the Great Wolf Lodge where we were holding our retreat. We had unpacked, got the kids in their rooms, and were gathing for our intro session. As I began detailing how the weekend would be and what we’d be talking about, one of our 7th grade boys shot up his had.
Now this particular boy was one who I loved, but who would ask completely off topic questions, which would steer us off course. Knowing this, I just asked him to put his hand down and I would get to him later. He sat there with his hand up the entire time, about 10 minutes later I was done, and I finally called on him.
“Your fly is down.” I turned as red as a beat. That has been the lasting joke in our youth group since. Needless to say, I don’t ignore hands any more.