I love All Saints--y'all have heard that before. And I love having all my babies at All Saints. What I don't love is having Kendall leaving All Saints, but that's a different blog.
When I first started as junior high chaplain, the babies were still in junior high and SK was a junior counselor. I was so nervous that I would step on their toes (and I probably did--okay they'll probably tell you I stepped all over their feet and tried to take 1/2 their legs off), and yet each year when I would ask if they wanted me to come back, they said yes. Each year one moved up until this year.
This year it was just SK and me. It was so weird, and frankly a little (read a lot like I may have cried several times in my cabin) sad. I missed having them all around; I missed seeing them be at All Saints; I missed seeing the ethos of All Saints seeping into their pores.
I tried to stay in touch with the three not there. Boys are terrible at texting (terrible at texting me; awesome at texting their girlfriends) and Caroline, well Caroline is just Caroline. I'd go a few days without hearing from her and then get a text that read like this,
Caroline: Can I get electrolysis?
Or even better
Caroline: Winnie is bleeding
Me: Bleeding where? (Keep in mind this dog was hit by a car this summer so that was not a ridiculous question.)
Caroline: From her vagina!!! It's so gross.
Me: We couldn't get her fixed because of her broken leg; doing that end of July
Caroline: Well what am I supposed to do? Should I try to use a tampon?
After much laughter and perhaps a moment where I wondered exactly how that would work and was a tad bit curious to maybe see, I responded, no just try to wrap a towel around her. I so miss my babies (I think).
Happy happy happy dance, they decided to come to the closing Eucharist for Kendall's final day. Remember how I said I often stepped on their toes? I'm not going to tell you how, but within 3 minutes I'd flustered William...but overall it was wonderful and I was grateful to have them ride home with me--or so I thought...
We had just gotten onto 65 when Caroline says, "How many people can I have at my wedding?" I shook my head from side to side trying to clear the confusion--last I heard she didn't have a boyfriend--but I had been gone a week. Me, "I don't know; we'll worry about it later." Caroline, "Well I've been thinking about wedding dresses..." Now I don't know how we then moved on from there, but all of a sudden William said something about planning his wedding. Caroline, "You don't get to plan your wedding--you're not the bride--just show up." William, "What? And you are the one always yelling about equal rights." Caroline, "Well for some things, and besides have you been thinking about your wedding since you were six? Do you really want to go look at invitations and taste cake." (I was a bit surprised he didn't jump on the cake tasting.) William, "I'm just saying I should get a say."
It really took a lot of effort for me not to point out that a) they weren't marrying each other so neither could say whether he could or couldn't come, b) they were still in high school and c) this conversation was going nowhere. Caroline was huffing and puffing (and she says I make a lot of breathing noises) and William was egging her on; I was wondering why in the world I wanted them to ride with me? "I can't decide which kind of dress I want. I think I'm going to want some sleeves. Grandma thinks..." and at that I had to interrupt, "Seriously is there something you're not telling me? You've been talking to Grandma about this?" "Mama," Caroline retorted, "It doesn't hurt to plan in advance. Now back to the dress, I don't like the tops of my arms."
I have no idea how I was now drawn in as though we were truly going to start looking for dresses, but out of my mouth came, "Well start doing push-ups. They're great for arms." Caroline, "I hate pushups; they're too hard." William too was losing his mind and becoming part of this fantasy dress buying operation, "Just do ladies pushups they're easier."
Oh boy--Caroline reared her head up, "Are you saying women have to do easier things? That's so sexist. I can't believe you said that." William, "Fine I won't call them ladies pushups I'll call them wussie pushups." "NOW YOU'RE SAYING WE'RE WUSSIES!!!" I couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry---and I certainly didn't know how to change the conversation--thank goodness for ringing phones and arriving home.....
Part II
Last night Caroline informed me that she was going to have to go to Mexican restaurants for first dates because if she was annoyed by the way any man ate chips he had to hit the road. She wasn't going to spend her life married to someone who can't eat chips right. Just in case anyone wants to start practicing....
