Saturday, October 3, 2009
Embarrassing Urine, Crazed Wood Cutters and Chick Flicks
During Bible Study one night, the boys found a new way to wrestle - rolling around crashing into each other with these laundry bins.
As the day of my "Chic Flick Movie Night" approached, I became more and more apprehensive. Many unusually gloomy scenarios unfolded before me both in my sleeping and waking hours. What if the electricity goes out? What if the kids are too crazy and loud? What if a drunken motorcycle gang crashes our party? What if a hungry wolverine or a crazed wood cutter attacks my friends as they hike up my driveway? On and on these scenarios unfolded until I became almost sick with worry. I reasoned with myself that this would be a great way to break the ice and get to know others. Then worry and fear would plague my mind.
Finally, I decided to take the matter to God with prayer. It was about then that I remembered that I thought the whole "chic flick" idea was His idea in the first place. After all, I had been out kayaking that afternoon, feeling totally inspired. The idea seemed to just drop out of the sky and I deemed it a "God idea". And so, with the big guy to blame, I fervently prayed for the situation. I prayed about having lots of kids there, lots of personalities, etc, though I did forget to pray that no motor cycle gangs or wild animals would crash the party. After I prayed, I felt much better. I felt really peaceful for a day, and then decided I would panic some more. I did what any dysfunctional 36 year old would do. I called my mom. After going over the whole thing with my mom, she assured me that we would pray about the night and that everything would go o.k..
The day of our "chic flick" night came upon me. I cleaned the house from top to bottom. Each time the phone rang, I worried that a national disaster may have occurred. Telemarketers, my job and the IRS all called, but nothing to "write home" about. I decided to clear my head and go out for a hike. Moonbeam dawned in her pack, I took off in the woods enjoying the misty, drizzly day. Then I started to worry that I would get attacked by some wild animal, myself. Another scene flashed in my mind. The entire party of chicks were out looking for me in the woods with flash lights. The night was ruined and i had to be taken to the hospital. That particular scene was disturbing because I had to pee and in my imagination I had peed my pants. I was not nearly so disturbed that I was laying on the ground bleeding to death as I was that the girls found out that I had peed my pants . I began to sing loudly, looking over my shoulder, as I continued my hike.
Another scene flashed in my mind. This one was real. As a young first grader, I was quite shy. I was especially shy in the "going to the bathroom" department. For some reason, I didn't want anybody to hear when I tinkled. For this reason, I decided that I would just wait till I got home. Day after day, it became more of a challenge not to "go" at school. One day I got the genius idea that I would just pretend to be sick. My grandma came and got me. The next day the same thing happened. Pretty soon, I got to be known in the "sick room" well. Our family doctor had no explanation for my unusual symptoms. My plan was going along just fine until that fateful day in the cloak room. I think I must have drank just a little too much juice that morning. Maybe I'd had a soda at lunch. Whatever the reason, I was having a really hard time. Just as my Grandma appeared to pick me up, I relaxed enough for something warm to run down my legs! Oh the agony. The worst part was that my whole class found out. The second graders found out too. Their classroom was right next to ours and some of them happened to be near the cloak room when my Grandma and the Teacher were helping me get cleaned up. Every once in a while kids would hear about a kindergartner having an "accident" but never a first grader. From then on, my teacher made me go "try" and ran water so nobody could hear. To this day, as a nurse, I have kept the "running of water" tradition alive for my "shy bladder" patients.
Anyway, I arrived back at my home unmauled. As women began walking up the hill to my house I ran off into the kitchen to hide. Soon there was a group congregated hiding in my kitchen with me. After some time, we began watching chic flicks. Nobody had to be stunning conversationalists. We just sat around eating popcorn and watching the boob tube. The kids went off to play peacefully. Some of the boys I thought would come turned out to stay home with their foster dad. It was a totally mellow evening. Nothing went wrong. Nothing crazy happened. By midnight, every body was falling asleep and were ready to go home. If I could describe the evening with one adjective, the word would be "mellow". I guess that's good, right? Maybe I should have done something to make the night more interesting. I could have laughed loudly and made animal noises, or maybe I could have encouraged everybody to play "truth or dare". Naw, I guess "mellow" was probably good.