Monday, November 21, 2005


[from last night...]

Me: No, here’s how it’ll probably go down…I’ll get up to the pearly gates, and some angel will be waiting there to greet me. He’ll tell me that I guessed right. Indeed, I was destined to marry some 16 year-old boy that died on an ancient battlefield, millennia prior to my birth, before having the chance to raise a family of his own.

Peggy: Oh, give me a break…

Me: Then this heavenly host will take me to a small room that looks like one of those interrogation booths in a police drama. He’ll open the door, and sitting there by himself will be my warrior, my Mr. Destiny. The angel will point to him, look at me, and say “There he is. That’s yours.” and close the door behind him.

Peggy: [laughing] Oh my gosh.

Me: I’ll awkwardly stand there for a few moments, then muffle out something along the lines of “well, I’ve been looking forward to meeting you…” or something. He’ll say, “do you play chess?” I’ll say, “um, well I’ve never played, but I’d like to learn.” He’ll shrug and say, “kay.”

Peggy: [laughing] oh…please stop!

Me: [continuing the chess conversation]

“I didn’t know Nephites played chess.”

“[shyly] Yeah, we used twigs and rocks for game pieces.”

Peggy: [cackling] OH MY GAWWWSH!***

“Wow. You don’t read about chess in the Book of Mormon. Some people speculated about the whole horses on the American continent thing, too. But….yeah. Chess AND horses. Huh.”

Peggy: You really must stop with this, it’s pathetic.

Me: [shrugs] Kay. Want some cake batter?
[I’ve been sitting on the couch this whole conversation with a big mixing bowl in my lap and a big wooden spoon in my mouth eating cake batter with the manners of a large hairy gorilla.]

Peggy: No thanks… I think you polished it off already.

Me: [looking down into the bowl] Oh, hey you’re right.


***Editorial Note: Peggy's laughter had more to do with how tired she was at the time of this exchange, and not necessarily because it was all that funny.
This was absolutely hilarious. I sure hope it isn't true.
Very funny. Although you left something important out... was it chocolate cake batter?
Seriously, this is GREAT. I can't wait till I get my own 16-year-old in an interrogation room... if marriage is slow in coming, then death, take me now!
MSM: I sure hope isn't either! And good luck with your Ward Christmas Party. The very name sends chills of repulsion down my back.

g: French Vanilla. I'm a vanilla cake fan, and chocolate everything else.

cicada: thanks for the comment. I'm sure you'll understand, however, that not everyone can be so carefully prepared and set apart to receive a 16 year-old in an interrogation room for a husband. But it's why I feel spiritually superior to all those mortal married people. Good luck.
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