We were asked to speak in church yesterday, one of my least favorite assignments. I think that might be everyone's least favorite assignment. I've never heard of anyone spontaneously bursting into the YMCA dance upon hearing they are going to speak. Maybe though. There are some crazies out there. Anyway, that alone had my heart all nervous and fluttery. Add to that yesterday was Matt's first day of all day meetings. Which meant my first day of getting the kids and myself ready and to church on time. Especially difficult since we all know the measure of how good your talk will go is how good your hair looks, right? But somehow we managed to get all church clothes on, all hair looking decent, and all bags and people packed and loaded in the car. Things were going along fine. Until a police officer pulled on behind me on a narrow road. I slowed down, used my blinkers, but he still followed me. Then we stopped at a light. I was probably 5 cars back at the light and he stopped behind me and put on his lights! GASP! The kids were in a dither. I was in a panic. My heart could hardly stand the shock. He got out. At the light. What if it turned green? Could I hurry and go before he got up to me? I started rolling down my window, praying the light would go green. How would he have time to tell me what I was doing wrong if traffic started moving? He got about even with the gas tank, then suddenly stooped and picked something up off the ground, and threw it over to the side of the road. He then turned around, got back in the car, and turned off his lights. I nearly fainted from relief. The light turned and we made it to church.
The talks went fiiiine. And by that I mean they are over. The best part of the day was that Hank stayed to primary by himself for the first time since we moved here. Four months, you say? Yes. Hank is a new brand of shy. Those of you who know him personally know that he is an introvert in every sense of the word. That is probably why the next event gave my heart the biggest jolt of all.
The Primary President is really one of the sweetest people I have ever met. She is soft spoken, mild mannered, and just kind, kind, kind. She has one little boy and a baby due in May. I don't think her kid is old enough to have ever really shown her what he's capable of. After church she came up to me and wondered how Hank had done on his own. The kids were just waiting angelically by the door in the foyer, most of the crowd had filtered out already. So she and I were talking about how brutally shy poor, poor little Hank is. At the exact moment that I was saying, "He's just the shyest kid I know..." He decided to prove my point. Hank backed his bum up to Lindy and let one rip. Then he proudly turned to Lindy's face and exclaimed loudly, "LINDY! I TOTALLY FARTED ON YOU!!!" Lindy and Hank collapsed into heaps of giggling piles on the floor. I had a heart attack right there and looked apologetically to the primary president. She looked as if she was about to faint. I muttered something about being sorry and she mumbled, horrified, that it was okay. But I could tell she didn't believe it. I knew I would have to scold Hank right there in front of the meek primary president, because I knew she would never stand for behavior like this in her home, let alone the church. As I leaned in close to Hank and said firmly, "Hank, we do not fart on our sister at church," what little restraint I had been clinging to snapped and suddenly I was a giggling heap as well. The primary president looked close to vomiting. I really tried to compose myself, but I think we've left the impression we are going to leave on her. Let's just say I don't think we came out smelling like roses.
So there you have it. We survived what had to be the most eventful Sunday in some time. I may need to start carrying nitroglycerin tablets in my church bag. Also, I think our Family Home Evening should probably address which bodily functions are acceptable where. Do you think I could find a good download for not farting in church on lds.org?
