Prodigal Dad — He who rules the CTRs rules the world

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PLEASANT GROVE — I can’t say that I am out for world dominance, but if I was my wife and I would definitely be on the fast track as the city North Central Ward directors of the Timpanogos area 8-year-old CTRs. (I prefer this expanded title I came up with myself.)

Identifying myself as director may be a bit over the top, but it looks better on a world dominance resume. My wife prefers the simple, “CTR primary teacher.”

I have learned more about members of my ward as a primary teacher than in any other ward position I have ever served. These adorable little cherubs of candor are actually mini-microphones plugged into the ward sound system. If parents knew that the leak in undisclosed information was coming from little Madison or Michael, they would be more careful in family home evening when discussing family maladies, mayhem and mortifying moments.

Often I am presented with information that curls my ears. For example, when my wife innocently asks, “What do we do on Sundays?” the answer, more often than not, turns out to be, “My brother eats fish from our aquarium.”

Of course, our cute little microphones are multi-directional. I learned the hard way to watch what I say.

Or “My mom doesn’t wear nylons to church unless Grandma is visiting.”

Here’s one from last week: “I have ADD and psoriasis and one medication for both!”

CTRs have not developed a sense of decorum or social correctness, which is part of their charm. Young Braden’s not knowing the meaning of “less is more” works for me if I am out to conquer the world.

Of course, our cute little microphones are multi-directional. I learned the hard way to watch what I say. Now I have the class repeat the moral of the lesson several times as we walk from the classroom to the big primary room. I do this because I once made a comment off the cuff and the Relief Society president's daughter told her family during Sunday dinner that I thought that Dr. Seuss was more fun than Isaiah.

This went over as well as the time I let out that the key to a happy primary class was sugar.

Complete world dominance via command of the CTRs can be fortuitous in very real ways. In class, one little girl told me that her mom didn’t wash the clothes with soap anymore because there was no money since daddy was gone. It went over the head of most in the class, but not my wife. This was the information we are on the lookout for, hoping not to find. But we knew what to do with it. My wife made a quick note to the bishop in charge of our ward, and though it was not our place to hear about the follow-up, I know what happened because it has happened to me.

A call is made and maybe another call. Suddenly there is soap in the house, and the fridge is filled or a bill is paid.

World dominance aside, I treat the information with less levity and a little more wisdom. It has taken me all these years to finally understand what my Gramma meant when she said, “As a Mormon there are times to yell from the rooftops and times to just keep it to yourself and the bishop.”

If, as believed by poet Robin Morgan, “the secreting or hoarding of knowledge or information may be an act of tyranny camouflaged as humility,” then I will gleefully trot my way to totalitarianism; I will restrain my way to rule. I can keep a secret, even if my CTR class can’t.

After all, there are things I do and say that I would rather not be broadcast through any channel — primary included. And hopefully I will be able to someday erase from my mind that the kid across the street shooting hoops and mowing the lawn like a normal person eats goldfish for a quick pick-me-up when his aquarium is sufficiently stocked.

For the time being, I will find out some other way to achieve world domination. Teaching the CTRs keeps me busy sorting out the chaff from the wheat and the meaningful from the silly.

I handle the information they share with me with care. I will be content to wield my social political influence by using the very same source I have been teaching my primary class about. Scripture power! But, if Britney or Martina mention to me again that I have bad breath today I will use that power to my advantage.

I will offer everyone in class a stick of sugarless gum and chew a few myself.