Don’t All Church Birthdays Include Scary Butterflies, Hairdryers, and Glittery Tigers?

This past Sunday was our Church’s Birthday Sunday / Picnic. I always think beforehand that I’ve been to a million birthday Sundays, and that this one will be just like the rest.

I don’t know why I always think that, because I always end up enjoying it immensely and being yet again amazed at the day.

We start out with a huge Eight Foot Cross-Shaped Birthday Cake, where everyone who was saved through our Church or is representing someone who was puts a candle in the cake:

It’s always amazing to see the line out the doors on both sides of the sanctuary:

And super-touching to see it all lit up

But my favorite moment is when our always-planning ahead Executive Pastor gets out there with a hairdryer and puts out the fire hazard.

They used to blow them all out, which was also entertaining, but besides the sanitary benefits of the hair dryer, I really prefer the comedic effect of it as well.

Then, that afternoon was time for our HUGE Annual Church -potluck (at which time we eat the aforementioned huge cake):

When you have 16 eight foot tables full of food, you have to learn to scope out the good stuff. One way to do this is by the dish.

For example:

• If it’s a white corningware dish with faded blue flowers on the outside, you know a sweet little blue haired lady made it, so it MUST be good.
• If it’s in glass Pyrex, it was probably made from someone under 40, but still will be good.
• If it’s in glass Pyrex with an insulated zip “takealong” bag under it, then you know it is someone that got married within the last 10 years. Seriously – one time we had a Sunday School potluck, and there were SIX Pyrex takealongs – every one of them in a different color.
• If it’s in an aluminum tray and/or a disposable bowl, then it MIGHT be someone that was too busy/lazy to make something homemade, but is trying to pass off something storebought as homemade. (Ahem. No, I wasn’t guilty of this. But if I was, in fact, guilty of this, it worked: Chris checked and it was all eaten. Not that I was guilty of this.)
• If it’s still in the storebought container, then someone was too busy/lazy to make something homemade, but wasn’t nearly as vain/hypocritical as me someone in the prior category.

  So now you know how to “shop” a potluck.

  There were many kid’s activities, of which we attempted to get Ali to participate in. The one she was most excited about (and therefore patient enough to wait on), was Mr. Bubbles and his balloon making magic:

  I was sure she would be scared of him when we got up there, but he asked her what she wanted, and in awe, she whispered, “A purple flower.”

  
  Some kids were not so girlish in their requests. For instance, this was a custom request: A spider hat.

  There was also a face painting line, compliments of Mrs. Giggles:

  And, although Ali didn’t want her face painted, she was quite in awe of those who did.

  Or, more accurately, rudely staring for long periods of would-be-awkward-if-they-were-adults time:

  

  Mrs.Giggles was not just talented, but a very obliging face painter.

  That’s right. He’s 20+ years old.

  
  Aaaaand yes, he does, in fact, have glitter highlights on his tiger face:
  There were also water activities, which didn’t mix too well with the aforementioned face painting:

  There were a lot of scary “I’m Meeeeelting” butterflies running around.

  But some of the kids didn’t have to have their facepaint melting off to be scary:

  After the big kids got their fill of the water features, it was the little kid’s turns. Eli was more than happy to give it a go:

  

  So we pressured Ali into giving it a try, citing that her much younger cousin was having a great time:

  . . . but she had no problem admitting that he was much braver than she.

  

  . . . as was Amy Beth. And pretty much ALL of the kids.

  However, she found her happy place. Rocks.

  I was tired and lazy when I changed her out of her wet swimsuit. And it was hot. And sticky outside. Putting her non-stretchy clothes back on would have been nearly impossible.

  Soo. . . we rode home with Little Miss Indecent Exposure.

  

  You know it’s a good picnic when you ride home, past bedtime, in your diaper.