One Sunday the preschoolers were dismissed to go to Churub Church and the most energetic was the preachers son. He raced down the center aisle as though behind the wheel of a imaginary racing car. He even provided the congregation with sound effects at the top of his lungs. “Varooooom and Schreeeech” he cried as he leaned into a hairpin curve.
His father pastor was unshaken and said in a strong fatherly voice, “Park it Henry and give the keys to your mother!”
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