When girls go to camp

As I mentioned in my last post, CAL spent this past week at Church Girls Camp and it was a great experience for her. She made new friends and from what she has told us about it, she had an opportunity to grow and progress. She truly had a good time. The mighty fine and stunningly patient SML was able to spend a couple of days with her at camp and had a good time as well.

And I got to go too. For one night. As I've mentioned before, in our faith, we are led by lay clergy and I am one of them, serving as a counselor in our local ward (think parish or diocese) bishopric. Thursday night was 'Bishop's Night,' the night when a bishop gets to spend a few hours with the girls from his ward. Our bishop asked me to cover for him, as he was stuffing himself silly at a Brazilian restaurant. Something about a groom's dinner for his daughter's wedding. I was glad to cover for him. Until the evening's skit. More on that later.

So I put together a brief devotional, and thanks to my mom's suggestion, totally ripped off the cheesiest game show on TV, hosted by the absolutely biggest TOOL that TV has ever given us, Guy Fieri (what a wad, seriously). I refer of course to "Minute to Win It." I don't feel so bad about ripping them off because they have a whole section of their website dedicated to how to do their challenges. We did about four of them. The 'Double Hanky Panky' was a fierce hit:

I also bribed them with cupcakes. And not the crappy grocery store cupcakes either. No, not for our ward girls. Instead, I ordered a dozen from Foiled Cupcakes. As usual, Foiled did not disappoint.

After the 'bishop's time' with their girls, we all met together for a final night service and testimony meeting. It's meant to be the spiritual cap of the evening, which it really was, but, of course, it starts with foolishness. Foolishness involving us who had come up for the evening - how is that right? The theme for this year's camp was a cruise theme and we were given hats - think the hats Mr. Howell wore from time to time on the Island - leis and grass skirts and were taught some hula in a less than five minutes. We were then paraded into the dining hall. Here's my grand entrance (queue the screaming and clapping, of which there was plenty - apparently girls like humiliating their elders as much as boys):

The hula of the doomed was captured on video and has been uploaded to Facebook. Click here to see Part One and here to see Part Two. Let me advise you that these videos show me dancing. No good can come from of it. Consider yourself warned. Enjoy.

And, MQ, when you read this and see the videos, let me remind you that you owe me. It should have been you in the grass skirt.