About three entire weeks ago, we were sitting on the cusp of school starting up again. Moms were arguing in stores everywhere over school clothes choices and shaking their heads at the cost of a five-subject, spiral-bound notebook, right before they asked, “And you need SIX of these for classes?” Everyone was pinning easy weeknight dinners, in some hopes that we would all get out of our grilled hamburgers and wine… again… for dinner routine and start making casseroles that our children would never eat. We were all praising central air conditioning, as we bellowed in outrage about THE HEAT! GOOD HEAVENS, THIS HEAT!! It was so monstrously hot outside that most nights, by 4 PM, some of us knew that we’d just throw our daily outfits in the garbage, because no amount of Tide would ever get the horror of the sweat out.
On those nights, we simply had Popsicles and wine for dinner.
That’s exactly the time when our church planned our End of the Summer Celebration. We had a gigantic, inflatable water slide lined up, which would be flanked by numerous kiddie pools, squirt guns and hoses. Bring on the refreshing water in the midst of all that heat! We were encouraging the children at church to come on out and soak your parents! Shoot your parents with a gigantic squirt gun! Hubs and several other guys bought big bags of charcoal briquettes, in anticipation of cooking enough hot dogs to feed every ticket-holder at an NFL game.
Obviously, the Baptists know how to do the end of summer up right.
And then, that morning, we switched from 100-degree weather to a cloudy day of 58 degrees, thank you very much.
The only issue is that fifty-eight degrees isn’t always conducive to HEY! WE HAVE A WATER SLIDE AND KIDDIE POOLS! No matter. Baptist kids are tough, as they come from a long line of solid potluck dinner buffets that have strengthened them and fortified them. Several of them took the plunge and got into the water.
Thing 2 arrived in a sweatshirt.
Yes. A sweatshirt… IN AUGUST… IN SMALL TOWN. I don’t think anyone in Small Town had ever worn a sweatshirt in August before this event. I told him that he was more than likely going to FREEZE PLUM DADGUM TO HIS DEATH, if he got into the water, but Thing 2 has been challenging me since the day he was born.
With chattering teeth, Thing 2 took to the squirt guns. He became a ninja with moves, and he sprayed everyone who came within thirty-eight feet of him. He may have even screamed ninja warrior screams that frightened the elderly.
… GET THIS!…
… HE WAS TOO COLD.
Which is why he ended up back in his sweatshirt, under strict orders to STAY THE HECK OUT OF THAT WATER, BECAUSE THIS IS THE ONLY SET OF DRY CLOTHES YOU HAVE WITH YOU.
Teams were put together, smack talk was thrown down, and it was like we were going to beat the Methodists to the potluck tables! Baptists are a competitive lot.
Youth pastors have been ruining clothes in the name of fun for years.
Clearly, I haven’t learned the crucial bit of the photographer’s Bible which states, “Have your battery charged at all times, or have a backup battery in your bag.”
I learned my lesson. The most hilarious parts of the relays went undocumented.
I’d blame it on the heat, but I was actually freezing that night.
Have a happy weekend, y’all.