How do you tame the Tasmanian Devil?

You've gotta love those moments as a parent when the teacher pulls you aside. I mean, really, is there anything better than that moment? Well, it happened for me on Sunday when I picked up Seth from Sunday school. It wasn't that bad, really. The teacher just asked me if Kim and I could work on Seth's ability to sit in a chair. Not that he's unable to do it, but that he is having trouble maintaining contact between the chair and his buttocks for more than 9 seconds. I already knew this, of course. The sad thing is, we do work on it. This poor, exasperated teacher doesn't realize she's dealing with an improved version already. She actually told me that she has to sit next to him during the little worship service they have so that she can keep him in his seat. He is a total spaz. Have you ever seen a room full of kids, all sitting and watching a puppet show? You know how there's usually one kid, not in his seat, maybe in the corner of the room, doing jumping jacks? or perhaps spinning around and flailing his arms? chanting? Yeah, that's my kid. At least we have a year before kindergarten. Somehow, with God's help, Kim and I will be able to transform our "Tasmanian Devil"- I hope. Most likely, we'll be working on this one for a while. After all, it is my fault. My mom has countless embarassing home videos of me doing pretty much the same stuff he does. And a stack of report cards with "Needs Improvement" checked by the "Pays Attention" box. I have watched some videos at my parents house that are literally painful for me. I think, "Why didn't someone just tie me to something?" The worst part is, in some of them, I'm like 8. Seth's only 4. I need to take action now. I think next week when I drop Seth off at class, I'm going to hand the teacher a bungee cord. When she asks what it's for, I'll just nod and say, "Oh, you'll figure it out."