Tonight, on the doorstep, was a Valentine’s Day box of candy, addressed to Cambre. It was signed “Love, Sister Doedick and Sister Imalottawoman” (okay, I made those names up, to protect the innocent, as always).
Those of you who peruse this blog regularly will remember I kind of told the primary president off a few weeks okay. See, she showed up asking for Cambre. No introduction. No, “Hi, I’m Molly Mormon, the primary president, and can I talk to your daughter.” Instead, she just smiled at me and said, “Can I talk to Cambre?” Anyway, you’ve heard that story. After I gave her my whole speech, about how we weren’t Mormon, and had had our name removed, yada yada, she pretty much tried to run, and run fast. But at that point, she said, “I WILL TELL THE BISHOP YOU WANT NO CONTACT.” She wasn’t exactly screaming, but she was backing up really fast, and her car left a tire mark as it peeled out….
Well, that “no contact” shit means just that. Shit. Jackshit, really. They don’t CARE. THIS primary president may not be back, but by God, they will leave little offerings just about any time they feel like it. Like Valentine’s Day.
So, back to the box. Anyway, Cambre gets the box of chocolates, and being ten and quite fond of candy, says, “Well, Mom, at least I get some candy out of this whole Mormon thing. Which one should I eat?”
Of course, being the Satan-possessed mother that I am, I decided to have some fun. “Well, Cambre, if you eat THAT one, you’ll have to wear that funny Mormon underwear.” That met with a “yuck,” eyeroll, and a “Mom, that’s just gross.”
Then, of course, it was a game. “What about THIS one, Mom?”
“Well, if you eat THAT one, you have to sit through three hours of meetings on Sunday, wear a dress all day, fast once a month, and forgo those Sunday water-skiing trips.” Eyes got wide on that one.
“You have GOT to be kidding me?” I have to remind this child, only once of course, of Grandma and Grandpa. That’s all it takes.
“Well, what about THIS one?”
“That one means you have to never wear another tank top, belly shirt, or two-piece swimming suit. EVER. EVER.”
Heathen child is appalled. Satan’s Spawn MUST wear two-piece. MUST.
So, we have one chocolate left. Now, whatever does THAT one do?
“Oh, nothing much. Just requires ten percent of everything you earn, for the rest of your life. Given to the Church.”
Child does quick math. Mother deduces THIS child, who likes earthly possessions a WHOLE lot, will never be a Mormon.
So, whattaya think? Did those chocolates end up in the garbage? Nah, she ate them. She’s on to me. Oh, and she’s on to the Mormons, too….