Duh.
The last time I was inside a Mormon church was to submit my resignation of membership to the local Bishop a year and a half ago. Well, I guess that was the penultimate time. The actual most recent time was just a couple days ago.
Beth's pre-school graduation had been planned to be held at a nearby park. The threat of rain which never came put a damper on those plans. The always-thinking-on-her-feet teacher, Miss Caroline, quickly arranged for the event to be held at her ward house. She even managed to displace a blood drive. Not a problem though, since in this town there's always another church no farther than a block away.
And though I've made a deliberate effort to avoid specifically Mormon activities, I wasn't put off by attending this event at a Mormon church since this wasn't a church event. Though you wouldn't have known once you walked in the door.
It would not have been hard to convince me that I had been transported twenty years into the past to a ward party in Sandy.
About ten minutes after the appointed starting time, or as I call it, right-on-time for a ward house, Miss Caroline called for everyone's attention.
"Julie, can we get you to say an opening prayer?"
Oh no she dih-uhn't. Seriously, people, can we actually presume everyone is comfortable with this?
"Pwease bwess dis food dat it wiw nouwish and stwengthen ouw bodies and bwess dat it wiw do us da good we need..."
Well, maybe God was busy smiting gays with AIDS or visiting the moon-Quakers or something but the prayer didn't really seem to take. Donna took several trips to the bathroom that night with an obvious case of food poisoning.
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Did you also have the requisite Temple Mint, nut-cup, dollar sandwich and frothy sherbet/Sprite beverage at your wedding???