“Have I handed you your balls yet?” and other inappropriate questions to ask at church

2018 is a wrap. We have put away the Christmas tree and deflated our yard full of minions. The only reminders left of the Christmas season is my wealth of holiday-themed hand soaps, a few remaining candles and a freezer half full of homemade candy. We have few traditions in our family but one has become not only our family legacy but tends to spill over to several families around us – the annual creation of peanut butter balls. This tradition dates back almost thirty years to when I first learned how to make them from a wonderful grandmotherly woman (who I am now realizing was the same age that I am now!) who took me on as a young mother that had limited culinary skills. She comes to mind while I’m rolling hundreds of peanut butter balls each year as I wonder if she is still doing the same. 

I spent several years making a variety of Christmas confections, including ones that my mother made as a child. I made Kahlua fudge (for those looking for a little buzz with their sugar fix!), Church Windows (basically colored marshmallows dipped in chocolate, rolled into a log and cut in segments), and a variety of cookies only to hear requests for less of everything else and more of the peanut butter balls. Eventually, I just make things easy for myself and started making quadruple batches of PB Balls and left the remaining baking to those that like to multitask. I’m good with finding that one thing that you do well and just doing it. Apparently, I am good at rolling balls of peanut butter, powdered sugar and Rice Krispies and dipping them in chocolate. Little did you know that this was a skill that you could be recognized for. I won a prize for best cookies in a contest once (although there was an irritated discussion behind me on how balls were not really cookies…but who am I to argue with the judges?)

I got a late start this year which may be why I have so many remaining. We typically pass them out during our Christmas service at church but I was knee-deep in dealing with my impending job loss and not holiday focused at that point. I did my best to pass them out to the usual recipients the following week but have since learned that we forgot a few people. I’m also not good at keeping track of who has been gifted thus requiring me to casually ask my friends at church- “Have I handed you your balls yet?” I, fortunately, attend church with a group of forgiving people that don’t even question the odd things that come out of my mouth at this age – they just smile and go with it, knowing that God has likely assigned a special angel to me that probably shakes her head frequently and does her best to intercede when my mouth gets in my way.

Then they hold their hands out and respond with, “I’ll take all the balls you have left.”

Angels are shaking their heads everywhere…and hoping that I bring my balls with me to heaven. 

Happy New Year!