Tunorky….pronounced tah-nor-key. If you are easily offended stop here. If you are a youth pastor or work with youth in any way this story fits right into your wheelhouse. Here comes a crazy camp story for you. I ran program at a Christian winter camp for teens for many years. We show up on Friday….have a meal as a staff….then the campers came from all over. Well one year every Friday we had this meal. We could never figure out if it was tuna, pork or turkey so we just called it tunorky. Now you may be thinking why on earth would you eat something you did not know what it was. Well let me tell you. It was a little slice of heaven. All those yummy comfort smells from your grandma’s house all rolled into one place. It was a cross of Thanksgiving and Christmas with a whole lot of love thrown in. It looked brown. It has some sort of gray gravy on it. Usually served with mashed taters and a veggie. Every Friday we would dig in and enjoy. Every Friday night we would swear we were never going to eat that or anything ever again. Why you ask. Let me take you back. Here we are sitting around enjoying this food. Again….not sure what it was but it tasted so good! The smell alone was enough to drag you in. Now you take a bite. A bite that seems like it came straight from kitchens of heaven. It tasted so good. Went down smooth. Not too hot. Not too cold. Add a little smashed tater onto the fork and you had pure perfection! Bite after tasty bite you all but lick the plate. About a hour later IT STARTS! First you get the lip sweat. You know what I am talking about. You feel a little warm. Start rocking back and forth a bit hoping it will pass. Some people were lucky and this is all that they would get. If you were not one of the lucky ones the forehead sweat came next. That is when you know it is going to run full course. Brace yourself. It is only going to get worse. After the forehead sweats come the stomach churning. It is at this point you want to be within sight of a bathroom at all times! If you need to look for one it is too late for you. You have about 42 seconds to find a place to sit and ponder if you know what I mean. I recommend a single stall bathroom if at all possible for the safety of those around you but any port in a storm. You see this little slice of tasty perfection that slide so easily down your gullet has now turned on you. As soon as it hit your digestive track it grew spikes and then proceeded to scrape its way through your body until at last it needs to come screaming from your backside at a furious rate. There was sometimes moaning involved. Even rocking. It’s ok. No judgement here. We as a staff knew when we saw someone running for the restroom on Friday nights what was going down. We would do the head bob saying…umhmmm…tunorky. Nothing more needed to be said. We had all been there. It was most fun watching the newbies go through this process. Kind of takes you by surprise. Kind of a camp initiation. Friday night we would all form a pact that we would never eat it again. NEVER! Some of us could not eat for the remainder of the weekend. Never! NEVER! But alas as we all went back to our regular lives during the week we sort of forgot our pact because every Friday there we were again at the dinner line trying to cut each other to be the first to nestle on the succulent taste that was tunorky. I am sure there is some lesson in here about gluttony or patience. Perhaps some lesson about moderation. I am not going to flesh that out. Why did I write this…well it is Friday and who does not love a good camp story. Sometimes you need to laugh at yourself and know that life is funny! Even life eating tunorky!