Dear dude that drinks the water,
We were all told about 836 times by our youth minister not to drink the local water when we went on our mission trip. We were told our stomachs were not used to the different type of water they have there. The consequences of digesting water and dairy products were graphically spelled out by the youth volunteer that wanted to scare us.
We made t-shirts that said, “Just say no to H20” and even had that motivational speaker, “Mr. H2-Whoa” come in. Remember him, he had that partner of his “Fire hose Frank?” They threw water balloons at us for like an hour until we were finally “soaked with knowledge” about the danger of ingesting water we did not know the origins of.” Any of that ringing a bell?
Probably not, since this afternoon, during one of our breaks on the mission trip, I saw you eating an ice cream cone and drinking out of a hose someone had attached to a fire hydrant. Are you kidding me? We both know what’s going to happen. This is what happens every mission trip we go on. (And don’t tell me it’s because you’re embracing the culture or that it was an accident. Accidents like that happen on mission trips and that’s not what I’m talking about. And this has nothing to do with you nobly engaging with the culture. This is about a hose.)
You’re going to be sick. That’s what happens next. You’ll have an upset stomach and then we’ll all have to move our stuff to another room or another tent so that you can have a little space because you’re “sick.” That’s right, I used quotations. We’ll have to be extra quiet during our break times, because you’re “resting.” And everyone will have to work a little harder because for the next day or two we’re all carrying your load too and you need to “recuperate.”
But what really gets me is that some of the girls on the trip are worried about you. They apparently forget that you’ve done this exact same thing for the last four mission trips. They are going to dote all over you. They’ll bring you crackers to chew on and check on your “progress” every few hours. And, wait, I see what you’re doing. I always thought you were just a horrible listener. But now I get it, this is just an elaborate way to meet girls in our youth group. I pray that you never combine forces with the dude that always brings his guitar everywhere. The two of you would be an unstoppable force, with him writing songs about being sick and you looking pale and trying your best to sing, but I just feel so “weak” from talking, could someone get me a cold washcloth for my head please?
I can’t stand going on mission trips with you.