Last night David and I stayed up late to watch the Westminster Dog Show.
The terriers were the last group. And by then it was so late, I thought I might as well stay up for the ending. And plus...I was enjoying it.
What is happening? Even I think this is ridiculous. And I'm the one who did it. This either means I've completely lost my mind or I'm a total nerd.
On Saturday, our family had to perform a role play for our Stake Conference, which is a meeting for all of the LDS congregations in our area. We were asked to take fifteen minutes to demonstrate an ideal family council.
In front of 650 people.
Act natural, they said.
Just be yourselves, they said.
But we're the worst, Ethan said.
I can't believe we're doing this, David and I said to each other, about a hundred times.
I told David we should make it funny. He said we should play it straight, stick to four main points, and teach correct principles. Olivia refused to entertain the idea of having a script and Savannah refused to be serious. Caleb just looked at us like he couldn't believe he was associated with any of us. We had three rehearsals. The first two ended early, on account of complete frustration. The last one ended in tears. Sounds about right. (Keep in mind that one of the principles of having family council is: Keep it Positive!) Finally, I just said a prayer begging for help, we had a group hug, and we went for it.
It was about as horrible as you can imagine.
It was about as humiliating as you can imagine.
I told David we were not going to have any friends when it was over. Because how can you make that work and still be nonchalantly cool? Which is what I'm going for, didn't you know? Okay, maybe not cool, but at least not THAT family. You know, the "perfect" one, that not only has all the answers, and is living all the answers, but is happy to tell you all the answers as well. Gah.
It's mostly a blur now, but I do remember that somewhere in the middle we ended up having a five minute discussion about not feeding Auggie from the table and how we need to cut off his nightly popcorn fix. He and David have a serious problem. They're just enabling each other. And now the whole stake knows about it.
On Sunday morning we had several people come up to us and say that they thought Auggie should be able to get popcorn every night, and that his voice was not represented at our family council and that hardly seemed fair.
If that was the take-away, clearly, we did a spectacular job teaching correct principles.