Remember I told you about our Sunday ritual?
Where we were picked up by the church’s shuttle and driven to the service? Where, after the service was over, we walked 20 minutes to the beach where I practiced my theory of “No Sunscreen”? (And every week I practice being burnt like a lobster?) And then after an hour or so we hop on a trolley back to campus?
This week the plan went without a hitch until we got to the trolley part of it.
This week the trolley didn’t arrive.
At one o’clock we were at the side of the road, in our swimsuits, waiting for a late trolley
At one-fifteen we were at the side of the road, in our swimsuits, waiting for a nonexistent trolley.
My sister told us that some Norwegians had managed to walk from the campus to the beach in one and a half hours.
Please do some good Christian meditation on these facts for a bit.
Take into consideration that fact that (a) Superman must have had Norwegian blood (b) the Norwegians had started in the morning, (and we had just spent an hour being tossed around by the waves,) (c) the fact that they were walking downhill to the beach, and (d) the fact that Norwegians are expert walkers.
Yessiree, it was not a good situation.
But I decided to walk it. As I am Canadian and American, for both of those reasons I was not about to let the Norwegians show me up (with one and a half hours), and so, starting at 1:20, I arrived on campus at 2:10, gasping, but proudly representing the North American race. (So maybe I ran a little bit.)
And for my family? They managed to catch a ride with someone they knew and were found sitting in our apartment looking cool, and calm, and sunburnt as I walked in, 50 minutes later, dripping with sweat, panting hard, and gasping out wildly, “What time is it? What time is it?”
Yessiree, it was a situation.
Where we were picked up by the church’s shuttle and driven to the service? Where, after the service was over, we walked 20 minutes to the beach where I practiced my theory of “No Sunscreen”? (And every week I practice being burnt like a lobster?) And then after an hour or so we hop on a trolley back to campus?
This week the plan went without a hitch until we got to the trolley part of it.
This week the trolley didn’t arrive.
At one o’clock we were at the side of the road, in our swimsuits, waiting for a late trolley
At one-fifteen we were at the side of the road, in our swimsuits, waiting for a nonexistent trolley.
My sister told us that some Norwegians had managed to walk from the campus to the beach in one and a half hours.
Please do some good Christian meditation on these facts for a bit.
Take into consideration that fact that (a) Superman must have had Norwegian blood (b) the Norwegians had started in the morning, (and we had just spent an hour being tossed around by the waves,) (c) the fact that they were walking downhill to the beach, and (d) the fact that Norwegians are expert walkers.
Yessiree, it was not a good situation.
But I decided to walk it. As I am Canadian and American, for both of those reasons I was not about to let the Norwegians show me up (with one and a half hours), and so, starting at 1:20, I arrived on campus at 2:10, gasping, but proudly representing the North American race. (So maybe I ran a little bit.)
And for my family? They managed to catch a ride with someone they knew and were found sitting in our apartment looking cool, and calm, and sunburnt as I walked in, 50 minutes later, dripping with sweat, panting hard, and gasping out wildly, “What time is it? What time is it?”
Yessiree, it was a situation.
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