Brothers and Sisters
CK and I love our bishop. Mostly because whenever he gets up to address the ward he says "Brothers and Sisters, Talofa" And then we get to say it back. That is because he is Samoan and we are white, and oh what a kick us white folks get out of speaking Samoan in church!
We had the pleasant experience of meeting with the bishop for tithing settlement this week. He is so kind and thanks us for the 4 dollars we gave to the ward in tithing over the year and we say "no problem" and on and on.
One of the things he likes to remind CK and I of often, is the necessity for couples to go out regularly on dates and/or spend time enjoying each other's company. He says that is a sure defense against infidelity. I hate to use a cliche, what with the bishop and all, but he was PREACHING TO THE CHOIR.
This is where I recount the last three days of my life:
On Saturday we had a day out at the frozen lake. We've got this little private spot where we set up base camp and play on the ice with our dogs. At one point it got so hot that I, sprawled out on CK's coat on the ice, worked up a nice tan (that word has to be the nerdiest...). As I was lying there in the sun, eyes closed, softly napping, The Chuch licked my face with the same skinny tongue she used to slurp up the dead cat we found freshly run over on the road.
I just love her.
On Sunday we ate tater tots and chocolate until well into the night.
Monday, for family home evening we decorated our tree, had a great sushi dinner, went shopping and hit the late showing of The Chronicles of Narnia.
I think about those things when the bishop is admonishing us.
So this time I said,
"Quite right Bishop. But is it possible that we are going out too much? Is it possible that we might be having too much fun? Sometimes I feel so spoiled."
To which he replied,
"It is not possible."
Brothers and Sisters, Hallelujah!