Adventures in Relief Society - Pumpkin Night

It has been a long, long time since I have attended a RS function...or church, for that matter. Between Primary, vacations, general conference, and illness, it's been a spotty couple of months. Anyway, since Logan is catching up on schoolwork, and we wouldn't be able to hang out, I had a bit of a wild hare (or is it hair?) and decided to attend the cooking group once more. My reasons were twofold:*

1. Because it was pumpkin night, and I love pumpkin goodies.
2. Because it was time for some good, old-fashioned blog fodder.

I arrived late. Unfashionably so, since I was unshowered and still in my stale pilates clothes. The hostess grabbed a chair and sat me between a group of strangers, and the woman who once praised me for not being "one of those opinionated law school girls." And for those of you keeping track, she's visibly pregnant again. Anyway, since I'm pretty sure I recently offended the husband** of the mistaken woman, I decided to chat with the unknowns to my right.

After promptly forgetting their names, we turned to the usual pleasantries of "How long have you been in the ward?" and "What age group do you teach in Primary?" and "Oh isn't that child hilarious?" Then of course it led to "How many kids do you have?" So and so had a 3 month old boy. What's-her-face had two. And the one who appeared to be at best a sophomore in college also had a son over a year old. Sigh. And me?

I had a really, really good answer for that question last time I blogged about cooking group (we had only been married for a month). So this time, I decided to rely lamely on the same excuse: "Nah, we're still pretty newlywed."

But they persisted--"How long have you been married?"

"Hm...over a year and a half," I calculated.

Unfortunately this led the group to discuss the lengths of their marriages, and it was revealed to me that Sister Sophomore was married 2 years ago. Which would mean she got knocked up when they had been married for only three short months. Which, in turn, would make my earlier excuse a bit awkward.

So, there you have it. That's how I stuck my foot in my mouth this time.

After that point, I was so NOT myself that I'm getting nauseous just looking back on it: I hid the awkwardness of my statement by playing dumb. Like an idiot teenager trying to impress a boy, I acted completely baby-naive around these women--lauding their ability to access their childrens' ages in months instead of years, faking ignorance as to the correct facing of a car seat for children under the age of two. And it was weird.

I'm happy these women are happy. But why isn't there anything else to talk about at these functions?


* Yes, I am making fun of the stupid 2L's definition of success when I use the word "twofold"

** This is a long and more nuanced story, but basically a guy in our ward sent out e-mails soliciting real estate business from his "friends and family." I told him I didn't know him, and to please stop sending me e-mails. He sent back an incredibly bitchy letter about how rude I was and how we were in the same ward and had attended the same law school and how he wasn't even going to take his full commission because it was a gift to his "friends and family," and how I should watch myself in the future, and on and on... It was pathetic. I was genuinely embarrassed for the guy, so I didn't bother replying to tell him:

1. Buck up, and be a man about rejection.
2. You've never once spoken to me. I really don't know who you are. I don't care if we attend the same ward or school--you're not my friend nor family.
3. Don't pretend to be some generous soul for not taking your full commission. You've had about as much experience selling real estate as I have had having babies. Zero.