It. Has. Been. Hot.
I don't know how else to succinctly sum up the last several days around here. This has been the story pretty much everywhere, though, and I'm aware that my friends in the southern states are rolling their eyes and thinking that I can cry them many, many rivers about the "Excessive Heat Warnings" our news stations put out when we reach the high-90s.
We're very delicate in this state when it comes to hot weather. But just wait until January when we're buried under snow and negative temperatures and then it will be our turn to be self-righteous. We used to save all of our self-righteousness for the fact that we didn't observe Daylight Savings Time and didn't have to mess with the oppressive springing-forward and falling-back. Now that we do have to change our clocks, we mostly just whine about it incessantly on Facebook.
We're so charming.
Anyway, the heat has cut into my list of potential weekend activities quite a bit. REO Speedwagon was playing at the county fair on Saturday, which could have been enjoyable. But you know what feeling I can't fight anymore? Air conditioning.
So I stayed inside and made a dessert for a friend's baby shower on Saturday afternoon. The guest of honor said, "Something chocolate...or peanut butter...or chocolate and peanut butter", which are some of my favorite words to hear. I came up with this.
Yesssssss. Layers of homemade brownies between layers of vanilla-infused peanut butter pudding, freshly whipped cream, and chopped Reese's peanut butter cups. Amen.
On Sunday, I taught the 4-and-5-year-old class at church. (Chaos!) My favorite part came during review time, when I typically hold up pictures of scenes from previous weeks' lessons and the kids are supposed to shout out their memories of what took place in each story. They always start out strong with, "The lady lost a coin and then she found it again!" and "He rubbed mud in the man's eyes and he could see!", but by the end of the stack, their little memories tend to run out of steam. So this week they employed a new tactic, whereby when they couldn't remember a particular story, they would just pause a moment, and then scream, "Yay for Jesus!" The first few times I totally fell for it, since we were reviewing the Easter themes and I figured they were just super-excited remembering the resurrection. When they were still yelling, "Yay for Jesus!" as I held up a picture of Barnabus, though, I realized something was up. I know I could just go all "Oh Lord, give me a child-like faith like theirs!" about it, but I think in this case they were just totally playing me.
I think I'll use that tactic during this week's women's book study group meeting on Ann Voskamp's One Thousand Gifts. When it's my turn to give impressions of the themes in Chapter 5, I'll glance furtively around the room, stand up and shout, "Yay for Jesus!"
It could work.