because i am a woman

Botswana is incredibly beautiful.

As I sit writing I am surrounded by twisty, worn trees with beautiful blossoms of Easter-esc, pastel colors.

Garden workers buzz around me, each never passing without a cheerful greeting of "Dumela mma". 

Good morning mam.

Their early morning cheerfulness inspires me to welcome each new day with their same excitement.

I am off to present a poem I have written for class.

The poem is titled "Because I am a woman".

It is a feminist interpretation of Mark 5:21-43

otherwise known as the story of the bleeding woman.

For me, this poem has become more than just an assignment.

It has become an outlet for me to express my frustration with the incredibly patriarchal society that is Botswana.

As I wrote, I continually asked God to prepare me to speak truth to the audience I was to share it with.

While I was reading, and rereading, and rereading and.... well, rereading the story, my mind was fixated on answering the question "How can this story be told to empower women?"

But more than that

"How can this story be told to empower Motswana women?"

Many people here have faith.

It is quite astounding how many times I have been invited to attend church with a complete stranger.

But sadly, the patriarchy in the church is dominant in Botswana.

Women are not built up within the walls of the church, they are, most often torn down.

My faith does not tear down women.

My religion does not tear down women.

My Messiah, he definitely does not tear down women.

Yet here, that is not the reality.

I was only given a week's time to compose my poem.

I could tweak and refine my words for years.

This task was too important to give haste to!

Why do I doubt God's hand?

Every day my heart breaks for the people of Botswana.

The oppression is severe. 

The woman are patronized, objectified and constantly belittled all in the name of culture.

They are given worth based on their ability to please a man.

Brains, imaginations, cleverness, confidence, strength... they are of no value here.

For a woman.

My heart does not only break for the women, it also breaks for the men.

With the rise of global feminism, young women are given special attention and are beginning to be taught what it is to be a woman.

For the man, the "proper" characteristics and behaviors are assumed.

They are not discussed.

Women are beginning to gather to discuss their place and power.

Men, they are left to figure out their slowly changing roles in society all on their own.

This has given birth to passion killings.

Men are back lashing too swiftly and fiercely to the newly, and only so slightly, empowered woman.

The "need" to show power and dominance is dramatized to the murders of several unsuspecting women.

The tensions are addressed and therefore worsening. 

As I look into the eyes of the young men and women in my class, my heart beat quickens. 

I feel so alone.

My message so contradictory to this culture.

I am not alone.

Who am I kidding?

I have the bleeding woman.

"Because I am a woman"

A poetic interpretation of Mark 5:21-43

By Kayla Stelle

Silent thought I speak.

Quite while I scream.

I am not heard,

because I am a woman.

If that were not enough,

they call me unclean;

a child of some cruel sin

because I am a woman.

My small fortune has been spent;

promised healings are not delivered.

Forever I will sleep in dirt

because I am a woman.

I find myself craving mercy;

day by day losing worth.

Surely He will never touch me

because I am a woman.

I am sinking like a stone.

If only I could touch his coat

His power will descend upon me and I will be made new

even though, I am a woman.

His nearness gives me an unexplainable strength!

I crawl through the ever-growing crowd

but nobody takes notice, they are blind to my attendance

because I am a woman.

I slowly raise my frail hand;

doubt fights against belief.

This is my only chance

because I am a woman.

Immediately He turns around.

It is as if He senses my presence.

He calls for the one who touched him.

He calls for me, a woman.

In that moment, I'm amazed!

My body has been completely restored!

Then, I fall trembling at his feet, in fear,

because I am a woman.

I open my mouth to speak and a stutter comes out.

I share with Him the horrors that are my life.

Every single truth He hears

even though I am a woman.

"Daughter" He says as He looks deep into my eyes,

"Your faith has healed you."

Now, I am His child,

a beloved and cherished woman.

Away from Him I go,

my life now a testament of faith.

I am unique, treasured, empowered

because I am a woman.

Because I am a woman

my story now transcends...

cultures, genders, laws-- they have no say!

My Messiah, He heals women. 

___

I could choose to ignore the suffering that is all around me.

It would be easy to focus on the beauty that has blessed this country.

If I so desired, walking in oblivion would be a simple solution.

But, my Messiah, He heals women. 

a very happy birthday to a very special girl

Dear Mads,

I am so lucky to have you as my sister and best friend. Sisters are always portrayed as rivals and never as advocates. When I tell people that I truly love my sister, they always respond with something along the lines of "Really?" or "You guys don't just fight all of the time?". People expect us to constantly compete against each other instead of support each other. Maddog, I'm so glad that we defy that stereotype. We have countless memories shared, inside jokes conjured and awesome telepathic powers that are the result of knowing one another so intimately. We are truly blessed.

It's great to have someone to share my oodles and oodles of bazaarness with. I love that you not only match the crazy-- but often exceed it.

I love that we have this unofficial crazy-face-making-off competition every time we end a skype call. I can always count on at least two minutes of hideously fantastic faces being exchanged before one of us finally says, "Okay for real now, goodbye." (Then of course, we have a few more moments of the loco before truly signing off.)

I love that when we get into the car, one of us will pop in a cd in complete silence, wait a few moments for the tune to begin, and then simultaneously burst out singing at the top of our lungs with complete seriousness. This singing is not a joke. This is real life. I also love that the cd of choice is usually Hillary Duff's "Metamorphosis".Quality.

I love that we can be silly together when trying to talk about our days, or explain a tv show we just watched or, I don't know-- imitate Star Wars characters. (Your wookie noise could use some serious improvement, but no judgement.) It's fun when we're telling the same story and we finish each other's..... sandwiches. Dang! So close.

Girl, we're such geeks.
Nerds?
Whatever, same thing.

I love that we share a love for Lord of the Rings. Remember that one time that we went to Target and found all of those foam, medieval, weapons in the dollar section? Then do you remember when we proceeded to buy ALL OF THEM and reenact all of the Lord of the Rings battles around our house? "That still only counts as one!" OOH, do you then remember when mom walked in, carrying a bag of groceries, right into the middle of the battle for Helm's Deep? I sure hope you do, because you stabbed her with your sword, and she fell swiftly and epicly to the floor. Gosh we have a cool mom.

I love that you bought me the Ring of Power for Christmas.
One ring to rule them all...

I love that we both love Peter Pan and can literally quote the entire movie back and forth. That's pretty cool. We're pretty cool. "I have taught you to fly and to fight! What else is there?"

I love our Star Wars marathons. I am so glad that we can agree upon the fact that you watch them in the order that they were released, not the sequential order. Not only is that the only way to have a SWM, but then you are sleepy for the 1, 2, 3 and can therefore let your mind relax and not want to kill itself when Padme cries, "Anakin, you're breaking my heart!"

We have so many mishap moments... it's kind of unreal.
But then again, not unreal, because it's us.

I loved that one time when we decided to be all artsy with our food and create a bowl made out of chocolate. Goodness, that was such a magnificent idea! It worked so well the second time. The first time though....... boiling chocolate all over who? Oh yeah, me.

I loved, like seriously loved, that time that we went shopping and tried on literally all of the clothing in the clearance section of Macy's while waiting for mom to return stuff. Normally that kind of thing would drive me insane, but watching you take off that shirt and slice your forehead open with the price tag made it... priceless. If that wasn't enough, the way we "fixed it" really sealed the deal. Remember when I took out that makeup from my purse and rubbed it all over the gash to "cover it up" and then we got out of the shawty dressing room light to realize that you had a pretty solid line of sparkles and glitter going down the front of your forehead? Hey, you're like a flashy Harry Potter! You go Glenn Coco.

I loved when we were trapped at home, for what seamed like forever, due to snow in high school. Girl, we got so bored so quickly. But hey, we had each other! So, obviously we were going to do something silly and a bit unconventional. Who cares that we had perfectly delicious and normal ice cream in the freezer... we just had to make some on our own... from the snow. Yeah, that tasted good. Ps. Mom and Dad, if you're reading this, sorry for making you eat that.

Because I'm the big sister, it is my responsibility to embarrass you as much as possible.

I loved sending you that super creative letter last spring. No, not the one entirely in Spanish. (Which was meant to help you BTW, not annoy you.) I'm talking about the one with the strip of waxed leg hair. I honestly don't know why you didn't appreciate that... That was a piece of me. That leg hair had traveled around with me for five months. It saw the world! You obviously didn't care. Whatever. See if I ever give you anything meaningful again!

I love going to places with a self-check option with you. You know why (; OHHHH the volume on those thingys can be cranked so loud! I love watching your face go from a "Yay Kayla is buying me candy!" face to a "What the hell Kayla, you speak English not Spanish" face. Again, I am just trying to help.

I love driving you places. Seriously, I do. I enjoy driving for one, but girl you know how free I become when behind the wheel. I love singing at the top of my lungs and dancing like it's nobodies business. You however, do not appreciate that little detail. Mads, you sink so low into your seat, it's ridiculous. Just embrace it! Life is wonderful.

You dish it right back at me though...

You love to take pictures of me when I'm sleeping. You love it so much, you make collages! Collages! Like, are you kidding me? I can't count the amount of times I have walked into a room and seen you, with your ipod, showing people pictures and saying "This is Kayla sleeping in the car on the way to Tahoe... This is Kayla when she fell asleep after showering... This is Kayla sleeping on her text book... This is Kayla sleeping on the trampoline..."

You love to laugh at me when I need you to comfort me. Remember when I watched the finale to Chuck?! I called you balling my big blue eyes out and what did you do?! You first laughed, then put me on speaker and then had to hand the phone to someone else because you were rolling around on the floor. Madison, that was a defining moment in my emotional life and you did not care at all! Sarah doesn't remember Chuck! Do you understand the horrors of this?! Love... I just can't.

You love to do stupid little things, in public, to embarrass me. Like hey, remember when I was wearing a zip up jacket that one time when we went to Costco. YOU KNOW I NEVER WEAR ANYTHING UNDER THOSE. But what did you do? "Hey Kayla, what's that?" I look to the left... you unzip my jacket. I was so exposed. SO EXPOSED.

Even though you do all of those things, you are still so damn cool!

I love the quirky things you do. I remember one time when the power had been out for days and I came downstairs to the cutest/most pathetic thing I had ever seen anyone do. You were sitting in the dark with a tea light, a tooth pick and a bag of mini mollows roasting them. Seriously, you're the greatest.

I love that you made varsity basketball as a freshy. That one really needs no further explanation. #balla

I love that YOU WERE ATHLETE OF THE WEEK TWO WEEKS IN A ROW. Girl, you are such a champion! Even though you despise the pictures that were chosen, you still looked sick. And not sick as in ill, sick as in too legit to quit.

I am so proud of you.

I love that you have become such a leader. I remember the first time I saw you really step up. It was at a Blue Ox basketball banquet during the awards section of the evening. You were so little and so cute. Up until then, I don't think I had ever seen you voluntarily speak in front of a group of people. But girl, you just marched up in front because you were determined to encourage your team. That has since developed into such a beautiful thing. You are captain of the varsity basketball team at Peninsula, a leader in the youth group and the director of this summer's mission trip. People look up to you girl.

I love the strong woman of God you have become. You are so confident because you know that you are His. You radiate His love to everyone you come in contact with, even when that is hard. You have such strong conviction and compassion. The way you care for others is extraordinary. I know that you are going to be the most fantastic teacher some day.You, through your actions, show people what it is to be a follower of a loving and powerful God. You are a rockstar.

Even though you can be SO DUMB AND ANNOYING.... like the fact that you quit softball. I had such high hopes for us... second and short... that would have been so solid. Or the fact that you listen to Taylor Swift and One Direction at an abnormal volume and consistency. Or the fact that you aren't going to North Park next year.

I'm over it.
Kind of.
Not really.
Especially the Taylor part.

I still love you SO MUCH.

To reiterate what I said at the beginning, I am so lucky to have you. I can't wait to see how our friendship only grows.

We're going to be the coolest old ladies ever.

Keep on keepin' on.

Oh, and happy birthday.

puddles in the desert

You will never understand the saying "dogs are man's best friend" until you have a dog that not only understands you better than your fellow humans, but who longs to be with you as if you were the sole purpose for its existence.

Similarly, you will never understand common comparisons until you have lived both sides of the contrast.

I first experienced this eye-opening phenomenon when I was sitting in chapel at North Park University during my first Chicago winter.

It was the middle of February, quite possibly the dreariest time of the year in Chi Town, when a local pastor came to preach to us.

He spoke passionately about the coming of Easter and compared it to the coming of spring.

Now, wherever you are, spring is a beautiful time!

You see the baby animals.

You smell the fresh flowers.

You obtain an uncommon drive to clean your apartment...

But man oh man, you will be hard pressed to find anyone who appreciates the coming of spring more than a Midwesterner during the month of February.

When this pastor then linked this longing for spring to the coming of Christ, it clicked for me.

Wow! The coming of Christ...

That's incredible!

It is so welcomed after this cold, dark, miserable Christ-less time.

Jesus, the son of God.

Spring, the sun given to us from God.

What gifts.

I have recently experienced another lovely awakening to the reality of a common phrase.

Let me tell you this: you will never understand any rain analogies to their completion until you live in a desert.

Similarly to the coming of spring, the coming of rain brings such a clean, cool, new and absolutely needed comfort to such a dry place.

Granite, the rain practically evaporates as soon as it hits the ground...

But it is so desperately needed that the entire atmosphere changes.

I am not speaking merely of the change from dry heat to humidity.

I am speaking of the energy that surrounds this land.

The people's hearts begin to glow.

Their smiles begin to gleam.

Their walks begin to skip.

And

a deep sigh of relief is collectively uttered.

This is what we have been waiting so earnestly for...

it is here.

It is joyfully received.

It is fresh.

Drip.
Drop.
Drip.

Isaiah 53.

let's all go to vegas

Well, as I mentioned in my last blog, classes in the first few weeks of school are not really a thing.

I have gone to six classes in the last two days and met only two lecturers. 

This being said, the lecturers that I have met seem to be absolutely fabulous!

Yesterday, I had the privilege of meeting the lecturer for my Bible and Gender class. She is a spitfire feminist and does not tolerate anything less than excellence. 

As she began to describe the class, my eyes began to grow larger and larger. This class will be no chore, it will be a paradise! 

She talks rather fast and admitted to me that when she gets passionate about a topic, she will often slip into a Setswana trance rather than continuing to speak in English. I laughed nervously at that comment which spurred the lovely lady sitting next to me to say, "Don't worry, I'll translate for you."

I am taking a course in the Setswana language, but a full on lecture in it will be a bit rough.

I digress.

This particular course will deal with how to read the Bible correctly, as a narrative.

It will also comment on the fact that the Bible IS a cultural text. How are we supposed to navigate that?

She will also lecture regarding how the Bible is read, in Botswana as well as around the world, to sement a patriarchal society. 

Finally, she will educate us on how the missionaries came to Boswana and drew an incredibly harsh line between cultural tradition and Christianity. The question there is, how did that change the way women were viewed in society?

She concluded the class with saying "I am no here to take away your faith. If I do, you never had it."

PREACH.

This is a beautiful beginning to a fabulous educational experience. 

I am ready to dive right in!

The picture above is of my dorm building. I have a local roommate, which is fantastic! Her name is Abong. 

The building is named by simply a number (which is what I was introduced to it as) but it is referred to by the students as "Las Vegas", which seriously confused me for a few days. I kept hearing locals talking about how their friends were in Las Vegas... Why are there so many Botswanan people going to Vegas?? 

dumela!

Friends!

I am sorry that it took so long for me to communicate to you. I do not have an internet connection unless I walk through the city to an internet cafe. Unfortunately, it is not safe enough for me to walk the few miles to the cafes with my laptop on me. All that being said, my friend Carley (or Curley as the locals pronounce it) has been kind enough to lend me her highly functioning laptop to write this post.

Life in Gabz is incredible. 

I have been here for one week now and I have already had so many fantastic experiences. 

The campus that I am staying on is absolutely gigantic. Classes start tomorrow and I have no clue where any of them meet. But, after talking with the locals a bit, I get the impression that the first few weeks of classes are not really a thing. Professors like their vacations and will extend them. I will not be taken back if I show up to class tomorrow and there is a sign on the door that reads "go home, no class today".

The weather here is so great! I had the pleasure of skyping home to Chicago to hang out with my friend Tracy where she told me alllll about the nasty weather that Chi Town is experiencing right now. While I am here, there will be an average of an 85 degree temperature gap between Gabz and Chi. Hmmm heaven.

The heat is very dry. Botswana is definitely a desert country. All of the other international students are rushing to get their tan on while I am patiently waiting for the inevitable to occur. Sun screen is my friend, not my enemy. Apparently the other day I missed my ankles though, because they are very burnt. It's partially tragic and completely pathetic. 

I just got a job! That's exciting. I was telling Anders the details of it and he said, "Wow, that's such a typical Kayla thing." I'm not exactly sure how to take that, but regardless, I am ready for this new challenge. I am an aerobics instructor... the the blind! Crazy, right? I surely think so. I was asking around about job opportunities and a woman came up to me and asked, "Have you ever done aerobics?" I replied "Maybe a few times..." to which she responded, "Are you good enough to fool the blind?" Yes, yes I am.

Adventures are to be had here!

As many of you may have seen based on the hideous picture that I was tagged in by another international student, the food here sure is neat. I was in the Main Market the other day just wandering around when I stumbled upon a row of "snack food" that the locals were snatching up and munching on as they shopped. I figured I may as well try it, because well hey-- I'm in Africa!

No regrets.. but the tasty snack was baked caterpillars. 

Crunchy on the outside.

Gooey on the inside.

Lots crispy, little of legs.

YUM.

So that happened.

I have met several fabulous international students as well as local students/residents of Gabz. I have a local roommate, which is awesome. I am so glad that I have someone who knows their way around to help me stumble to class tomorrow!

Speaking of classes, I am taking quite a few. 

I am taking four undergraduate courses and one masters course.

I am hopeful that they will go smoothly.

This upcoming weekend I am going outside of the city a few miles to a nature reserve with some of the locals. There we are going to go on a safari of sorts. I phrase it that way because we will not be in cars. We will be on horses! Pray that we do not come upon lions.... 

One other super cool opportunity that has come up is that I may play on UB's softball team! I did not bring any of my gear because I did not know that I would need it, but if I decide to commit to that, I will be able to travel to other African nations in the name of softball! So fun.

God has been pretty cool while I've been here. I mean, I didn't expect otherwise, but it's still important to note. So many great connections have come up. Today I went to church with another international student and we met some fabulous missionaries. They took us out to lunch and asked me if I would be willing to help with a (kind of) summer camp. They also own a school and requested that I put in some time teaching English as a second language.

I have also connected with an organization that works with children who were born with AIDS. I would be sort of a support group leader and just love on these kids. I know that this will be emotionally exhausting, but I have something great to offer to these young ones: a hope that goes beyond this life. 

One more place that would like my assistance is a preschool right outside of Gaborone. They would have me once a week to run the classroom (in Setswana). I have no experience with preschoolers outside of being a Sunday school teacher for a few months, but hey, I have never taught aerobics before either!

Those of you who know me well know that I love to help and often have a difficult time saying no. All of these opportunities that have come about sound amazing. I will be praying and discerning where God wants me to go. i would do all if I could! But this is just week one and I know that several more equally awesome opportunities will arise. 

I am aware that that was a lot of information thrown at you but this past week has been a lot of information thrown at me! I would like to say that it will slow down as I continue to get settled in, but I know that that will simply not be the case. 

Adventure is in Botswana and I am here to soak it all up.

So, I'll be traveling all around the country to see it's wonders as well as traveling to other surrounding countries. I plan to see both Joberg and Cape Town in SA, as well as head over to Namibia and Zambia. Who knows what exactly will happen! Regardless, I know that it will be the time of my life.

So hey, if you see a cheap flight into Gaborone, Francistown or Joberg... take it! I'll be here waiting for you with open arms to welcome you to this beautiful nation. 

I will do my best to update this frequently so that my posts are less word-vomit and are more pleasant tales. For now though, I hope everything is well state-side. It sure is here!

Be still.

Here in my apartment my roommates and I have created a semi-efficient responsibilities rotation. Every week we are assigned new roles to fulfill for the days to follow. These rolls include the usual housekeeping duties: sweeping (or "brooming" as Tracy would call it), vacuuming, bathroom cleaning, kitchen cleaning, garbage removal ect... Outside of these rotational "chores", we also have rotational responsibilities that do not have to do with the general cleanliness of our residence. This final rotation has to do with the spiritual and communal life of our home. 

This rotational responsibility includes a weekly devotion (Tuesday morning) and a weekly meal (usually Thursday morning or Friday night). During this time one of us will present some lesson of encouragement or challenge for the week in a devotional and then will cook a meal to be shared by all where we have the opportunity to be intentional with the relationships we share with each other. 

This week is my week.

My week to lead the devotional.

My week to cook the meal. 

(and my week to clean the bathroom...)

While preparing for my devotional I was struggling. Usually, this is a piece of cake for me. I have grown up in the church, going to numerous summer camps and Sunday schools... devotionals are nothing new to me. But, for some reason, I could not think of a topic for discussion.

I was attempting to share a lesson with my roommates about God, that was not inspired by God.

Well, that doesn't work, let me tell you.

As I recognized the absurdity of my attempt, I laughed a little, put down my notebook and closed my eyes.

I then said to myself, "Speak Lord, your servant is listening." 

Beautifully, He spoke.

"Be still."

Okay... I can be still, but I really need to plan this devotional.... it is supposed to start in 20 minutes. 

"Be still."

I opened my Bible to Psalm 46.

In this Psalm, the psalmist writes "Be still and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the Earth."

BINGO

There's my devotion! I can read Psalm 46, talk about the need to be still and take the time to recognize God around us in this busy time. 

Done. 

So, my roommates gathered around and I began to share. 

Immediately, the words I was saying were surprising me. It is a funny thing, when you lose control of your words. This has only happened to me a few times, each time revealing to me something incredible. 

This time was different though. I was not speaking out against some injustice, or sharing the gospel with a friend... I was being vulnerable and sharing about myself.

Those of you that know me know that this is rare and those of you that truly know me know that this is almost unheard of!

Sharing about myself is extremely difficult for me.

But I digress. 

As I was sharing about the need to be still I found myself flipping through my Bible and stopping in John, chapter 11. This is the story of Lazarus. 

You see, the event of raising Lazarus from the dead is always the part of the passage preached in Sunday school, but the events leading up to that instance are often overlooked because they lack the 'wow factor'. 

These events are what make the story difficult and some what frustrating.

Jesus was out and about, doing Jesus things, when Mary and Martha rushed to him. They urged Jesus to come with them to help their friend Lazarus, the one he loved,  who was terribly ill. Jesus heard their cries for help and assured them that all is for God's glory. Then, he stayed where he was for two days. He did not rush to the aid of his friend. He let Lazarus die. 

It makes me wonder, what were Mary and Martha thinking for those two days that Jesus let them suffer? Surely they were not jumping for joy, though Jesus did tell them that this was for God's glory.

I look through my life and recognize so many times that everything just sucked. I can easily point out instances where I felt completely abandoned by God and could not see how any good could come from what I was going through. 

Here's the thing though, after those two days, Jesus showed up and he raised Lazarus from the dead. 

Correct me if I'm wrong, but Lazarus couldn't have been raised from the dead if he was still alive. 

That amazing witness to God's glory, power and love could not have been demonstrated without the momentary pain and discomfort of well, death. 

"Be still and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the Earth."

I then played for them a song that is well known and often one of those "play really loud, throw your hands in the air and sing with no reservation songs"

The lyrics are beautiful, but I often wonder if the people who so wholeheartedly sing them are truly understanding what they are professing. 

The song is "Blessed be Your Name" by Matt Redman.

It opens proclaiming all of the joys that happen in life and how we are to praise God for them.

The second verse proclaims all of the pains that happen in life... we are to praise God for them.

And it continues on in this fashion until it concludes with this beautifully difficult statement:

"You give and take away, You give and take away. My heart will choose to say Lord, blessed be your name."

This song is an ultimate expression of surrender to God's will and plan.

The moment that we can "Be still and know that God is God", when we can release control on our lives and truly abandon our personal desire we are freed to bless God's name no matter what this world throws at us.

Well, Amen.

Amen!

I was vulnerable with my roommates when sharing this. I let God speak through me and it was really difficult. I was speaking these words and wrestling with them at the same time.

This total surrender stuff, it's super hard.

This acceptance of God's reality rather than your own.... yeah, that takes work.

But I'm willing to work at it because I know that God's plans, well... they are way more amazing than anything my little brain could ever conjure up.

Be still.

Breathe.

Know.

Know that He is God.

Blessed be His name. 

 

22 or 92?

In tribute to the early on set elderliness that the lovely women of my apartment (including me) are experiencing , I present to you this song....

92.

It feels like a perfect night to put on my wool socks

And make fun of those youngsters, uh uh, uh uh.

It feel like a perfect night forget something important

To knit a thick scarf uh uh, uh uh.

Yeah,

We’re tired, cold, confused and cozy

at the same time

It’s terrible and comfortable

Oh, yeah

Tonight’s the night we forget

to turn the oven off

It’s time.

Uh oh!

I don’t know about you

But I’m feeling 92

Everything will be alright

If my camomile tea will brew

You don’t know about me

But I’ll bet you couldn't care less

Everything will be alright

If we just keep puzzling like we’re

92, ooh-ooh

92, ooh-ooh

It seems like one of those nights,

This place needs to be quiet.

Too many loud kids uh uh, uh uh (turn off that darn noise!)

It seems like one of those nights,

We kick everyone out and end up knitting

Instead of partying.

Yeah,

We’re tired, cold, confused and cozy

in the best way

It’s terrible and comfortable

Oh, yeah

Tonight’s the night that we forget

about the burnt stew

It’s time

Uh oh! (hey!)

I don’t know about you

But I’m feeling 92

Everything will be alright

If my camomile tea will brew

You don’t know about me

But I’ll bet you couldn't care less

Everything will be alright

If we just keep puzzling like we’re

92, ooh-ooh

92, ooh-ooh

I don’t know about you

92, ooh-ooh

92, ooh-ooh

It feels like one of those nights,

we eat our oatmeal.

It feels like one of those nights,

we wear ugly sweaters.

It feels like one of those nights,

You look so sickly.

I gotta sleep now.

I gotta sleep now.

Ooh-ooh

Ohh-ohh, ye-e-e-e-eah, hey

I don’t know about (I don’t know about you)

But I’m feeling 92

Everything will be alright

If my chamomile tea will brew.

You don’t know about me (you don’t know about me)

But I’ll bet you couldn't care less

Everything will be all right

If we just keep puzzling like we’re

92, ooh-ooh

92, ooh-ooh

92, ooh-ooh, yeah yeah

92, ooh-ooh, yeah, yeah, yeah

It feels like one of those nights,

we eat our oatmeal

It feels like one of those nights

we wear our sweaters

It feels like one of those nights

you look so sickly

I gotta sleep now,

I gotta sleep now.

Tracy, Diem and Jenai... You guys rock. Thanks for being old with me.