Pre-Fourth Party

I, Lindsay Selis, being of... ahem... sound mind and body, do hereby write for your enjoyment, a brief summary of my none-too-boring day. There are two reasons why I am writing this at 11:30 Wednesday night, the first being that I will actually remember it now, as opposed to later, when I am inclined to be so busy with other things (ie. facebook or something equally important) that I would forget what happened today. The other reason is that, if I write this in the middle of the night, it is much more likely to be interesting than if I were to write it after a good night's sleep and a hearty breakfast. Never mind any wierd speling arrors, thuogh. It's laet, thatt's all.
Anyhow, it's not as if a whole lot happened today. In fact, the whole day was rather dull until the rain started. Who gets excited about rain, anyhow? I mean, it's a bunch of water droplets, falling at high speeds towards our heads and increasing possibilities of mental damage while at the same time soaking through our clothing. Take it from me, it's no fun having to wear shoes that squish with every step. It's almost worst, though, to be wearing flip-flops. All anyone can hear when you walk by is “squeak, squeak, squeak...” And if you happen to be wearing a pair of corduroy pants, you turn into a one-man band: “Voom, squeak, voom, squeak, voom...”
I guess I shouldn't complain, though. Some people in other parts of the world have to endure acid rain. Not only do they get wet, but talk about making noise...
So there I was, walking around in wet flip-flops, getting ready to set up a cookout and some fireworks in the pouring rain for the 15 kids that decided to show at youth group. (It was really raining hard. I don't blame the others for not coming. Plus, more hot dogs for the rest of us.) We were doing our best to look for the grill, but things just weren't shaping up. Finally, we found what looked like an ancient Mayan cookstove, which did turn out to be the actual grill. After that, it was a simple matter to screw in the propane and start up the grill. So, we turned it on and masterfully cooked up some beautiful hot dogs. Well, at least that's what was supposed to happen. In reality, it took us 10 minutes longer to find the propane, to try to screw it on, and to realize that we were missing the tubing that connected it to the grill. By this point, people were getting hungry. By the looks in their eyes, they no longer cared what type of meat they ate. Before things turned ugly, however, Jeremy pulled out the skillet and turned on the stove. No wonder they made him the youth pastor.
Anyhow, we had a couple of dud fireworks (who's idea was it to try to light them in the pouring rain, anyway?) and ate some hot dogs. On top of that, I learned the meaning to the phrase “turn the other cheek”, and laughed harder than I had in a long time.
I'm pretty sure I wasn't the only one laughing, though. My Daddy was having a pretty good time, too. I'm just glad He helped us get the stove working in time.