When I was a kid, we went to Cumberland Presbyterian Church, just outside of Hartsville, TN. It's not quite, as a woman from Queens NY once told me, "out there where even Jesus doesn't wear shoes." (It sounded great in Italian.)
I don't remember much about the actual lessons. I do remember my Sunday School instructor was a lesbian who had gorgeous long brown hair and dressed like my father. I was the youngest in my class (I don't know - seven? Eight?) and at least one lesson hour focused on horror movies about ginormous spiders and chainsaws that I wished I could see even though I was terrified by what I was hearing.
Wait. That could explain a lot about me, huh?
Anyway, I probably would have remembered the actual lessons if they were more like this.