cc: Members of the Abbottsville Stake
From: Ricky Foote
Subject: LDS Single Adults
Dear President Knightly,
Let me begin by saying how humbled and proud Mindy and I are to have been called as Stake Single Adults Leaders. We are ever mindful of the stewardship you hold as a stake president in Zion, and realize the call you extended to us was divinely inspired. You might say, President, that "we stand all amazed" at your intimate relationship with our Savior.
The first sign of rebellion came at last Saturday's Mix and Mingle/Marshmallow Shooting Contest. Rather than use the PVC pipe to make individual blow guns, the measly few who attended pooled their materials to construct a multi-shot weapon that they hooked up to a leaf-blower, then aimed at me.
Last Wednesday I waited for them for a full hour in the lobby of the Abbottsville Federal Building, LDS Single Adults! sign in one hand, happy face balloons and jumbo pack of Oreos in the other. I drew nothing other than strange looks from non-members. Finally concluding that they weren't coming, I went to my car to find "$#%* YOU!" spelled out in unscrewed Oreos across my dash.
Not surprisingly, they were no-shows in the nursery for the Married Adults' Dinner/Dance, leaving Mindy and I to tend the children ourselves. Then Sunday evening I arrived late to the Single Adults' Fireside. I was pleased to find it well attended. Only instead of listening to a presentation on personal histories, the Single Adults were playing poker with former Stake President Taylor. On the Sabbath. Using the sacrament cups for chips.
In spite of all of this, I remained determined not to give up on my Single Adult charges. That is, until today, when I walked into my work cubicle, sat down on a chocolate pudding filled whoopie cushion, then tripped a wire that sent Disco Duck blaring through my computer speakers. All of this drew wild applause from my office team, the LDS Single Adults, and the non-member co-workers they'd invited.
I'm sorry, President Knightly, but in light of this not-so-subtle message, I have to conclude that going on with the upcoming Lunch Hour Mingle and Disco Dance Party would be a very bad idea. And I don't even want to think about what they might do to the inside of the Turley's Suburban.
Like many martyrs before me, from Joseph Smith -- to Paul H. Dunn -- to Mitt Romney, I must strive to love and forgive my persecutors. But, President, as I sit here in my pudding soaked garments, I must confess, it's hard.
Please accept my heartfelt apology.
If you would like to stop receiving these e-mails, we'll sign you up for the "No Hands Pudding Eating Contest."