Barley and I had just returned home from a walk Saturday morning. I turned on the radio and started doing my usual Saturday morning routine - laundry, dusting, reading the paper, drinking coffee. I had poured myself a nice big mug when "Back That Ass Up" came on the radio. Because I'm me, I turned it up full-blast and started dancing around while drinking my coffee. And because I'm me, I managed to spill some coffee on myself. Remembering I had just started a load of laundry, I pulled the tank top off and threw it in the washing machine. Still wearing my sports bra and shorts, I continued dancing around because come on - would you expect any less of me?
I was in my living room when I heard a knock at the front door. Thinking it was either a) Amber, b) my cousin Dawn or c) one of my 600 aunts stopping by, I walked to the door. There, with looks of horror on their faces, stood two teenaged Mormon boys with their short-sleeved dress shirts, ties and bike helmets.
Now let's review the scene, shall we?
Me: ponytail, sports bra, jogging shorts, giant cup of coffee in hand
Audio: Juvenile's "Back That Ass Up" blarring in the background
I put my index finger up in a gesture which I hope conveyed "Please-wait-right-here-while-I- turn-the-devil's-music-down-and-put-on-a-shirt" as I sprinted towards my sweatshirt on the couch.
I returned to the front door at the same time the color had returned to the boys faces. They introduced themselves and I apologized for the semi-nekkidness. Without missing a beat, and without the slightest bit of irony one of them asked me if I felt like I had a close relationship with the Lord. My reply? "He'd like us to be closer but I think it's best we just stay friends right now."
I don't think the Latter Day Saints know what to do with sarcasm so it's probably best I don't convert.