1. A stinky gym. Junior high boys sweating. Need a say more?
2. Death by dodgeball. I am not a fan. I like my face in tact, thank you very much.
3. A walk down memory lane. Was I that annoying when I was in junior high? Was I that boy crazy when I was in junior high? Did I utilize my Secret deodorant stick to it's fullest potential when I was in junior high?
Last night at our kick-off, youth group meant these three things:
1. Moowiches. Made right there on the spot.
That's our fearless leader, Ryan. He's pretty much the bombdiggity. 2. Dunk Tank
And that's another one of our fearless and now numb leaders, Joey. What a good sport.
And this is me and one of my junior high shadows icing my arm. Dunk tank injury. Note: The dunk tank bullseye does not move more than two inches. I do not recommend running at it full speed with arms out. You will be stopped dead in your tracks. And you will sprain either your radius or your ulna. And your ego.
3. Sumo Suits
Gah-ross. I don't even want to think about how many sweaty, stinky, junior high bodies have been encaged in these giant Pillsbury dough boys. Though I will say it tickles my funny bone to see a wee little junior high girl get knocked over; resulting in a striking resemblence to an awkward turtle. And I like awkward turtles. So I know it's going to be a great year.
Ghetto Barbie out.
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