Ok, sometimes I get no respect from my children.
Like the day they put Hal in as bishop of our ward. I was already pretty shell-shocked and just thinking "How did a nice girl like me get into a mess like this?" (Ok, so I totally stole that line from Marjorie Hinckley, but it is a good one, you have to admit.)
And then we got home and Morgan said "Mom, do you need me to write a list of words you shouldn't say now?"
Um, I think I already know which words I shouldn't say. That's why sometimes I feel like saying them. Especially these days.
My word of choice? H - E - double toothpicks. (Now my kids will probably read this and make me bleep it out. I'll just keep telling them it's a place, not always a swear word. And one of these days, they might actually believe me.)
Now, what do you think might actually provoke such an outburst from me. Well, I'll tell you. But first let me say, I'm not proud of it.
It's those darn missionaries.
They show up at the most inconvenient times. And then they expect to come in and they just STAY. We might be in the middle of a movie and it might be the only night all week the whole family is together but we shut it off and smile and they STAY. They can't come in when Hal's not here so they stand on my porch and STAY. I can be in an apron, up to my elbows in chicken guts and they will just STAY on the porch. And they will always want to leave me with a scripture. Last summer we actually read a whole page together on my front porch. Don't these guys know I already go to church? Maybe they've heard about my checkered past. More on that in a minute.
Anyway, it really ticks me off when I pull into the garage and there is a strange car in the driveway. It usually means I will walk into the house and there will be Hal with the missionaries, trapped, like a rat. I must have vocalized some of my annoyance in the past because now if there is a strange car the kids will say, "Now mom, if that's the missionaries you need to watch your language. Don't swear in front of them." And usually I don't. There might have been that one time that they might have heard me in the garage..... I can't be sure though.
Why do the missionaries make me feel so uneasy?
Because I am not exactly the typical bishop's wife type. I have to come clean. I sluffed Sunday School practically every single Sunday during junior high and a lot of high school too. I did this with my friends, Jalyn Rinderknecht and Tonya Cook.
The reason I remember it was junior high is because none of us were old enough to drive. That didn't stop us from sneaking out (no easy feat since my dad was the Sunday School police), stealing change from our parents pockets and then stealing a car, usually Tonya's station wagon or our big blue car, which I can't for the life of me remember even what it was.
Once we got our hands on a set of keys, we would take off across town to the old Smith's that is now something else, a strip mall of some sort I guess. We would walk in, buy some sort of ice cream or frozen yogurt and then proceed to eat it while driving clear back across town. I'm not sure why we didn't go somewhere closer. Maybe it was so we would have time to eat the evidence.
This went on for quite a few years. Now that I think of it, I know I have extensive gaps in MY gospel knowledge. (Austin must have inherited that trait from me.)
Maybe the reason the missionaries make me so nervous is my own guilty conscience. Or maybe not. I should repent and be nicer.
(To be continued some other day for the other words.... Yes, there are more, though not as shocking.)
Oh, and for the record, I don't swear every day or every week, or even every other week. Probably not even once a month. Just so you know. I feel better now. Thanks.