i had the absolute pleasure of taking 9 middle school boys to the beach this weekend. we stayed at a place with revolution era forts, great for hide & seek. we only spent about an hour on the beach because the boys were just playing so hard the whole time. basketball all morning, fort running after lunch, mini-golf in the afternoon, dune jumping (i had a hard time not joining in on that one, but i kept reminding myself that my knees aren’t as young as theirs, and i’ve got a big race next weekend), and then a little beach time before clean-up and dinner.
all the things that you might expect to have on a all-boys weekend did.
1) the church bus wouldn’t start. luckily a mom lent me her minivan for the weekend.
2) one of the boys caught something in his eye, which continued to irritate him all day, so we took a little trip to the ER after dinner. he left with an eye patch, thus nick-named “patchy” the rest of the weekend.
3) while at the ER, the other 8 boys, bored out of their minds, started throwing rocks. the police had to give them a little pep talk as a result. oops.
perhaps the worst thing that happened, though, was MY fault. as i was following the GPS in my borrowed minivan, i turned down a dead-end road by accident. upon realizing my mistake, i whispered, “dead end? what the f!” really, i said the letter ‘f’ and did not use the word, but it was implied. and the boys immediately heard me (despite the blasting music and shouts of laughter as they threw playing cards and sour patch kids at each other) and gasped, collectively.
the favorite phrase for the rest of the weekend, was, of course, “what the f?!”
glad i could be a shining paragon of upstanding christianly behavior.
surely Jesus cussed when he stubbed his toe?!?!