Sometimes, what happens at the retreat doesn't always stay at the retreat.
Someone had to perform I'm a Little Teapot.
Someone else sang a song and pointed to various body parts.
A group of people performed a preschool song.
And then it was my turn.
The night before, a group of ladies had been playing Imaginiff. They were short a player so they wrote in my name. Then they had to choose which 70's dance I would be. One of the options was Shake Your Booty or Shake Your Groove Thing or something. The next morning they asked me if I could, in fact, shake mine. Turns out, I can. Independently of the rest of the my body, even. Although not particularly well when I'm not quite four days post biopsy. Not that the biopsy was in my butt. Um. Wow. This post has gone to Hades in a hurry.
In a nutshell, I declared that I could shake my, er, booty.
Naturally, an hour or so later, when it was time to collect my mail, the group decided that I needed to get my, uh, shake on.
So I did. And there are several pictures on Facebook to prove it.
On Monday night we took the boys to Chili's for free kids meals. The server brought us a large quantity of coasters which Matthew thoroughly enjoyed lining up and then declaring, "Yook! I made puzzle!" They were promoting 'Rita Fest and one side featured a picture of a margarita. On the flip side it says, SHAKE THAT THANG.
What with attending the Beth Moore conference in August, where all of us learned that thing is, indeed, pronounced thang, and then my shaking mine at the retreat, I think the Chili's slogan pretty much sums up women's ministries this year.