Saturday, October 17, 2009

One Lady, Five Teenagers, a Power Tool and a Screw

Note to reader: I wrote this post a long time ago. I'm just now posting it. Sorry!

Sr. BYF, the youth group at my church was most definitely one of the most important things in my life growing up. Some evenings after school we would get off of the bus at the church for whatever Debbie had planned for the evening. Whether it was a scavenger hunt in her engulfing woods (one of my favorites) a trip to the local eatery, Fat Eddie's, or an afternoon at the church to sing, it was always the highlight of my week. I'm sure you'll be privileged to hear many more memories from Sr. BYF since many of my best memories involve it!

The particular evening I'm thinking of was Friday night in mid-December, right before Christmas. Peter, Sarah, JulieBeth, Stacey and I were at the church helping Debbie put up the scenery for the Christmas play.

As I said, we were putting up the scenery for the play and that involved a few power tools. It was on this night that we found the hilarity of the word, "screw". Before I go any further, you need to know that Debbie gets a little loopy when it gets close to play time (Sorry Debs, I love you. It's true though!). On this particular evening she was extra loopy. As she was using the power drill to anchor something down behind the set, the rest of us were doing other odd jobs and handing her the necessary tools as she asked for them. All was normal. And then she asked for a screw. Except for she didn't ask for a screw like a normal person would. She put on this nutty accent (British? Australian? I have no idea! [Edit: Scottish. She says it was Scottish.]) and drew it out. "Sckrough?!" (that's the best I can sound it out. :P). We all stopped. We all looked at each other. Then we all laughed like crazy people. Needless to say the rest of the evening (Read: ever since then no matter who we are around) none our us said "screw" like a normal person.

A screw. (Think Scottish).

Not long after it came up again when we were working on a project at the church. Oddly enough, the rest of the Sr. BYF (who wasn't present the first time) didn't appreciate the hilarity of our word, even after being told the story. I guess for some memories, you just have to be there!


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