I am generally a likable person. Unless I decide to be otherwise. And then, watch out. Yes friends, I had one of those watch-out days.
At church, we don’t have any paid clergy which means folks in the congregation pitch in and are called to different areas (i.e. working with the men, women, youth, children etc.) This is generally a good thing and it’s fun to serve in many different capacities. Usually. I just received a new “calling”–as the Ward Activity Chair. This means I am responsible for planning about six activities/year for 200 grumpy, complaining people, many of them old fogies whose only calling is to grump and complain about others.
I was thrown into planning a huge dinner on March 11th with a limited budget ($200) and even more limited committee. Instead of throwing their standard boring affair, I threw caution to the wind and am planning a Cinco de Mayo bash. Sure, it’s in March, but not to be dissuaded, I have renamed it our Cinco de Marcho, complete with Taco Bar, chocolate fiesta fountains and karaoke.
I printed up fun fliers and distributed them to everyone, only to learn by the Ward Nazi that he had recently banned chocolate fountains from the building due to the mess. He nastily told me it was my father-in-law (who’s over the buildings) who had issued this edict. One phone call and a threat to never see his granddaughter again undid any such edict, which turns out was never an edict but rather a recommendation in the carpeted areas. But Hitler, I have learned, doesn’t work with recommendations and made them contraband everywhere. Don’t be surprised if his anti-chocolate-fountain-world domination comes to you someday soon.
Adolf’s Wife was part of my first committee meeting today and you’d think I suggested burning swastikas* on the lawn. (*Note: Oh wait. My brother Pat already did that as a teen-ager to our hateful neighbor’s grass. Another story, another day.)
Most of the committee was on my side but she wouldn’t budge, despite how irrational the whole thing was. I finally threw in the towel and will do something else (recommendations on easy and cheap Mexican desserts?) But she just wouldn’t stop needling me.
A.W.: “Don’t you think it’s misleading to name it Cinco de Marcho when we’re not even doing it on the fifth?”
Me: “Don’t cha think Eleveno de Marcho would kinda lose its meaning?” (Nobody in the icy room dared correct my Spanish-Canadian interpretation.)
A.W.: “I thought you were having a taco bar but it says here you’ve having soft shells. That’s misleading. You need to instead say it’s a burrito bar.”
Me: What I wanted to say: “Last I checked, they called them soft taco shells.”
I bit my tongue on that one, secretly plotting my contraband chocolate fountain I’d stash away for all my fellow rebels in the kitchen as I secretly wished I could get my way with everyone by threatening ‘em with limited access to their granddaughters.
I'm a Canadian-born mom of two, former Denver Post columnist, family travel writer, editor of MileHighMamas.com and 9News contributor. Expert on all things Utah, Denver, family and travel. Lover of laughter and life. Happily married to a man obsessed with growing The Great Pumpkin. 