Jingling and Mingling and Contemplating Happy Pills

There are certain elements in which certain people feel comfortable. This we know. None is better or worse than the other, but can be excruciatingly awkward for one while highly enjoyable for another. I’m sure you’re begging for examples.

Ahem. For example… I love pubs. Good ‘ol live music, beer varieties, and a group of rough-around-the-edges people who are there to actually appreciate the taste of beer rather than just inhale it. All of life’s dirty imperfections seem to collide into each other and make us all human. Many people I know would be completely out of their element here. You know, they’d be “that” guy that’s subliminally coughing in the corner and telling people that they’ll die an early death due to lung cancer.  I, however, find a sense of peace and enjoyment in this atmosphere.

Which brings me to my next example. Let me describe an element that has me running for the underside of a table.  400 women. Enough said there. But, add church pews, Christmas colored tulle, crafts and name tags  and its like teasing a claustrophobic trapped in an elevator. 

Oh, who am I kidding. Truth be told this isn’t a mere example. Let’s just get to the story.

Apparently every year the Duckett women (all of them) attend First Baptist Church of Hurst’s annual “Jingle and Mingle”. When invited I could think of a hundred reasons not to go, but there were two reasons TO go that outweighed all my fears. One, I really enjoy time with this family. They are awesome and insane. But the good kind of insane. The kind that makes you feel at home and can keep you laughing all night long. Two, I was not about to be the only woman in the family that didn’t go. I’m sure the art on my skin and the metal on my face already raises enough eyebrows. (Not from any of the Ducketts, though. They love me- art, metal and all!) So, I did what any loving and respectful daughter would do and forced my mother to go with me. I had to bribe her with some pre-mingle margaritas but hey, whatever works, right?

Somewhere between the “Love Train” quartet and the introduction of the word “fantabulous” I decided that this, my friends, is beyond my element. After we learned the ten steps to keeping the Christ in Christmas, we made our way to the fellowship hall to shop the craft booths. It is amazing to me what women will pay for painted wood with handwritten quotes on them. We (the family) decided next year we’re going to have our own booth and make millions. I’m still trying to convince them to donate the proceeds the Newlywed Duckett fund.

After our fellowship hall shopping extravaganza we snacked on some finger foods and things dipped in chocolate. As we made our way to a table I was so grateful there was a whole table open so we didn’t have to split up and talk with the “others”. See, Mom D’s been sick and so she barely has any voice left. Her sister Sherry had to interpret everything to us! A couple of times she got a little caught up in the interpreting process and starting translating to Mom D what WE were saying! Mom D replied “Sherry, I can still HEAR!”.

We ended the night at Starbucks to celebrate Sister D’s birthday over coffee and plot how we were going to make and create things to fill our “booth” (and our bank accounts?).

So. The whole 400 women packed in one room thing. Freaks me out. But, its not so bad when you have such great family to distract. And in case you’re wondering, I convinced them all to come with ME to the Ginger Man Pub tomorrow night! Ok, maybe that’s a lie…

Side note-it did get me thinking about things that stir our affections towards Jesus. Rather than fuss and worry over rules and restrictions, I am always asking myself what stirs my affections for Christ and what robs me of him. That’s what we want, right?  To be stirred towards, to worship Him? It’s funny to me how a place like a pub (that could easily be thought of as sinful) would be a place that ironically stirs my affections for Jesus, while a church service would be the place that somewhat robs me. Hmm…..

I would like to thank deeply my Mom D, Sister D, Sister M, Aunt Sherry and Grandmom for being crazy and making me laugh. And of course thanks to my sanity, my partner in crime, my Margarita Momma for stickin’ it out with me.

 

The End.