And you know, if the bar has been set right there at the level of "pig," then really, REALLY, there's nothing else to do but join the oink ranks and continue with my present level of consumption. So MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ME...as I shove my snout full of holiday joy. Don't you wish your daughter had flattered you so? Dream on, friends.
I'll admit, though, it's fun to find out the perceptions of our children about their family~unless there's a porker reference~and yesterday was full of amusement as our children said sobbing and excruciating public goodbyes to their brother.
In our monthly "Fast and testimony" meeting at church, the congregation is invited to come up to the pulpit and bear testimony of the gospel and share faith promoting experiences. Ideally, these testaments should revolve around Jesus Christ as our Savior. However...(she said sheepishly)... somehow, in the sweeping emotion of the day, my entire clan went tripping and charging up to the pulpit, without forethought as to what they intended to say, and proceeded to make the meeting an uncomfortable, albeit unintentional, worship service for their earthly brother Ashton, rather than their eternal brother Jesus Christ. Which makes a mother...wince.
They wept and sobbed, pubescent voices cracking and unchecked boogers seeping, as they professed fervent love and admiration for their missionary bro. They regaled with stories of "ridiculously awesome" hair, "freakin' cool" clothing and "Lord of the Rings marathons." Yes. Yes, that's right. With priorities such as these being taught in our home...I know. I'm one incredible mother. I might start up classes...just to benefit other~more often than not~inferior mothers (probably you,) and I won't even charge (very much.)
The Bishop and his counselors on the stand started to sweat and tug at their collars, heads in hands with eyes darting toward the clock on the wall every few seconds. (A quick shout out to Brother "Man-pri Marker." We missed thee whilst thou wast away.) They were hoping the hands would show in their favor~kind of like checking the fridge every two minutes, hoping the food fairies had placed a giant cream pie on the shelf since the last time you looked.
When the time finally DID expire, they were like a race-horse out of the shute. "AAAAAAND...we'd like to thank all those who BORE TESTIMONY...(not YOU, Bingham family) about OUR SAVIOR...(that's right, OUR SAVIOR, NOT your son) at THIS SEASON OF HIS BIRTH!...(two fingered eyeball point from their eyes to ours) 'Nuff said. Amen."
And they ended the meeting.
I'm not gonna lie. I was relieved.
And now, my fellow Christmas piggies, I'm off to find another trough of slop to eat.
"Oinkity, grunt, SNORT!" (that's pig talk for 'Adieu.')