One of the highlights (well, at least for me) of this past weekend was all of us going to my home church for Sunday morning service.  We were all sporting our matching Starlite sweatshirts (pretend there’s a picture right here), so it was pretty obvious that we were a group even though there was around 1,000 people in this service alone.  The pastor introduced us to the congregation and had us stand.  He mentioned us a couple of times in the sermon, but it was what he said near the end of the sermon that made me jump a bit in my seat.

He was discussing how God will call certain people to do different things regardless of their age.  He’s well aware that I’m only 23, so he mentioned how me being so young and yet called to do what I do requires that I act differently than other people my age.  He’s absolutely right, of course.  I’m just glad he didn’t see me three hours before when I was laying in the bed pulling the covers over my head when Andi told me I really HAD to get out of bed and start getting ready for church since everyone else was already up and ready to go.  

Ahem.

At one point in the sermon, he was talking about how Christ in our lives helps us — that a metamorphosis occurs.  Darling Cate, our oldest and brattiest perkiest Starlite leader, leaned over and motioned that she wanted to whisper something to me.  While I expected to hear some comment she had on the sermon, here’s what I heard instead:

“I’m going to ask you to spell metamorphosis later.”

See, our cute little Cate thinks it is funny to ask me random academic questions (and YES IT IS AN ACADEMIC QUESTION), especially if she thinks I have no idea what the answer is — but only when we’re in groups of people.  Case in point: recently Cate spent about 15 minutes quizzing me on US History while we waited for dinner at a local restaurant. 

Since when is it important that I be able to name the past eight presidents?  Really now.

True to her word, as soon as we we seated for lunch yesterday, Cate began whipping out the questions:

“Spell metamorphosis.”

“No.”

“Amy Beth… spell it!”

“Okay.  M-e-t-a-p-h-o-r-i-s.”

Insert manic laughing from entire table.

Then, she began asking me questions from our “Shark Educational Class” that I forced all of the girls to sit through we happily attended at the aquarium on Saturday.

“Name two of the ten types of sharks we learned about yesterday.”

“The flesh-eating and the vegetable-eating ones.”

“Incorrect.”

Insert more manic laughing here.

I may not be able to name those presidents, spell that stupid word or name some silly shark species…

… but I do get to assign who has to clean out the nacho cheese containers this week. 

Cate?  My love?  Better bring your rubber gloves.

Definitely insert manic laughter here.