Lou Al From Hawaii Called, He Wants His Cheesy Surfboards Back

You (my long time readers that is, the new people may think this is normal) have probably noticed that I have not been very verbal in my blog over the last 2 weeks. I have wanted to write more, but my focus has been unwillingly shifted towards the annual VBS at our church. The "Weird Wife" signed us up this year to help out in the kitchen because the Hawaiian Luau theme seemed like it would be alot of fun. This is good for her because she is only about one croque monseur shy of being an Iron Chef. (sorry about the obscure food network reference) However, me on the other hand with my smart ass remarks and colorful adult language have no business in a kitchen serving little church children. So what did I decide to do? I decided to separate myself from the kids entirely by doing my part before the kids get there while at the same time using my God given talent of being able to make cheesy looking fake surfboards out of plywood.



Yea, I know what your thinking. What the hell do you need fake surfboards for anyways? Exactly, so I had to invent a reason that I could call this my contribution to VBS snack time. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Surfboard Tables.



They were practical, more sanitary than eating off the floor (at least they were before the kids stood on them to practice their "hang ten"), and the kids really liked them. So I finished last week with the confidence of knowing that my work here is done. Or at least that's what I thought.



Apparently the "Weird Wife" and our friend "Grand Tetons" were expecting an extra set of hands, specifically mine, to help out with the preparation of the food. So, I have been hanging around in the church kitchen after work this week to prepare food. And when I say prepare food, I actually mean, stir kool-aid. Which doesn't sound like much until you realize how much kool-aid those kids drink. Seriously, those kids drink alot of kool-aid. Gallons and gallons of kool-aid. And it wouldn't be that big of a deal except they are given little shot glass size cups that have to be refilled about 1000 times in order for the kid to consume their individual gallon of kool-aid. So instead of some new blog material, all you get is a picture of a tired and sticky me.