Sunday, February 7, 2010

The Truth about Happy Valley

This weekend I played Thelma and Louise with my sis-in-law.

Only we weren't driving a 1966 Thunderbird convertible, we were driving a 1990 U-Haul.

And we weren't being chased by the police--thank goodness, because I can't graduate from Traffic School again for three years--we were being chased by responsibility.

It was our responsibility to return the U-Haul after we moved my mom out of her trailer park and into a respectable neighborhood--she's been living her dream long enough and it's high time she gets back to reality.

It wasn't one of those baby U-Hauls with Louie Armstrong on the side.

This was the real deal--a ginormous 27 footer.

My sis-in-law jumped into the drivers seat and gave me the look. "Are you sure we should be driving this?" she said.

"Driiive Louise! DRIVE!" I said. "Go! Go! Go go go go go go!" (Names have been changed to protect the innocent and the guilty.)

We always talk about hitting the open road and blowing this taco stand so this was our big chance.

Or at least it could have been our big chance if I hadn't forgotten my camera. I don't really feel comfortable blowing this taco stand without my camera, ya get me?

So we returned the U-Haul and went to Wendy's for a kid's meal. While I sucked the marrow out of my mini frosty my sis-in-law revealed to me the truth about Happy Valley.

Did you know there are varying degrees of happiness in Happy Valley?

Me neither.

Apparently she lives on the lower East side of happiness. That's the side where you can't bring candy to primary because the children would rather eat spinach.  In fact every morning they beg their mom's for spinach and whole wheat bread smoothies. 

At least that's what the moms on the lower East side of happiness say.

Once my sis-in-law accidentally made a loaf of homemade white bread and took it to her neighbor who had just given birth. Her neighbor said, "My kids will be able to tell this isn' real bread."

She probably wasn't being rude, she was probably just saying. Bless her heart, it ain't her fault her kids are weirdies.

I'm just thankful my Sponge Bob ward is on the upper East side of happiness because at least our weirdies are animated, which makes it easier to refrain from smacking them upside the head.

See what I mean? 

My sister recently asked me if I call our ward the Sponge Bob ward because everyone wears square pants. 

"Nope," I said, "it's because every Sunday is the BEST DAY EVER!

"Well," she said, "if this is the Sponge Bob ward then YOU are Sponge Bob."

Then to prove it she rigged a hidden camera in the Young Women room while I conducted opening exercises.

I had never noticed the resemblance before, but she has a point. 

The coolest thing about the Sponge Bob ward is that everyone gets a chance to play their role in an given episode.  Some of the characters even get to write their own.  Like today I walked into the library and overheard one of our cast members discussing his upcoming episode in which he would hold a lightbulb in his mouth while a supporting cast member tasered him to see if he could conduct electricity. 

(I have witnesses who can testify that this is true.)

It goes to show that our cast members are aware of their audience. Everyone knows that cartoon electrocutions are much more entertaining than real life electrocutions.  

The Sponge Bob bishopric is aware of their audience too.  They know how to word things so everyone gets it.  Today the 2nd counselor kicked off our testimony meeting by declaring, "The whole idea of perfection is just bizarre!" 

We all shouted AMEN!  

And then we broke our fast with krabby patties. 

The best thing about our writers is that they understand a good show should be more than just entertaining. A good show should teach important lessons as well.  In cute ways.  

Last week we found this taped to our front door: 

It hooked me, line and sinker. Maybe because I lost my testimony of PJ's in Hawaii. I even called my sister, who used to be the primary president, and asked her if she knew why, why, why PJ's are so important.   

She had no idea.  Apparently it wasn't a rerun. 

On Saturday morning I yelled my kids out of bed.  "GET UP AND PUT YOUR PJ'S ON!" I screamed. "They're filming the primary party today!" 

I paced back and forth in my living room from 9-11 until they finally returned home bearing these pillow cases:

What a relief! PJ's aren't important at all. It's just a clever acronym.

Now that's entertainment!

But it's not the most entertaining episode. The most entertaining episode is the one where my son wins a HUMONGOUS pocket knife for tying the double sheep knot faster than all the deacons.  


Do you think those spinach-smoothie-drinking-whole-wheat-bread-eating weirdies get to play with knives like this?

P.S. Does it look like my son gave himself a haircut with that knife to you? 


Just SO said...

I want to live in your ward. I hope you find out about the light bulb and the taser and if it works or not.

Dolly said...

I love Thelma and Louise! In the yin yang of all girlfriend relationships.... do you find yourself more as Thelma or are you sometimes Louise? I can see a bit of Louise in you too.

Mary said...

Wow. I wonder what side of happy valley I live on.

April said...

I love it! We are going to be having a PJ Party with our YW and their moms for Personal Progress. They get points for anything they bring that begins with the letter "P". Then we are teaching the moms about the new Personal Progress in our PJ's. Now if I can just find my pink parasol.

springrose said...

I was wondering why his hair looked like my Hubbys in one of his pictures after his dad gave him a bowl hair cut!! Now I will have to post that picture as proof!!! It is so bad!

CaJoh said...

The more I think about the phrase, the more I'm confused by it. "Happy Valley"— I always think of valley's as the low end and mountains as the high end. Ah, but there I go getting all existential (and on a Monday too).

Love the cleverness of PJ's, and yes it does look like he tried to determine the sharpness of the knife by trying to split his hairs (only he didn't know how) and wound up cutting it by mistake.

The Framptons said...

Hey those spinach smoothies are pretty darn good!!! LOL

DeNae said...

Holy weaponry, Batman! Even Crocodile Dundee would agree...that's a KNIFE!

(And I'm thinking that SIL should have said, "Well, it crumbles into your hair and stuffs up your nose and jams down your cleavage like REAL BREAD!!")

No kidding, my word verification is "jamone". Take one slice of homemade bread for yourself, and "jamone" somewhere else...

I need to be done reading blogs for the day. Clearly my filter has shut down.

Sandi said...

Scary boy, there at the end. I want to at least visit your ward, not sure I want to move in yet, and I absolutely adore your use of the weirdie word. It's my favorite :)

The Crash Test Dummy said...

Ha ha Bobbi, YOUR spinach smoothies are very good, I confess--drank three of them this week alone--but then you're kind of a weirdie too. ;) ;)

Oh, Sandi, you will want to move in after you find out all the famous people look-a-likes living in my ward.

DeNae, ahahahahahahahahah I loved the whole jamming down your cleavage imagery. hahahah I laughed out loud. I think my sis-in-law will appreciate that one. I think white bread does crumble better than wheat bread.

Cajoh I love it when you wax existential.

OH MY GOODNESS, April! You SHOULD BE IN THE SPONGE BOB Ward! My 2nd counselor was speaking about Personal Progress at New Beginnings. She was reading her talk, and she had abbreviated Personal Progress to PP. So the whole talk was about how important PP is. LOLOL! She's such a comedian anyway that it put the whole night over the top.

Nutty Hamster Chick said...

Hee Hee to all of it. It is so nice when you feel so at home in your ward. Me too.

Love it.

springrose said...

I just realized you probably thought I meant your son's hair looks so bad, but I mean my Husbands hair when his dad cut it in a bowl hair cut. Your son just looks like he was sleeping or wresteling or something. Maybe that is how he got the knife in the first place, he won it wresteling all the other scouts!

The Crash Test Dummy said...

Springrose, I knew what you meant. I can't wait to see the photographic evidence. My son looks pretty funny too. He was definitely sleeping AND wrestling.

Jamie said...

Aha! I finally found you and what joy you've given me so far. I doubt I'll be able to read all the way back to the beginning of your blog but I'm enjoying it so far. Jack Johnson...seriously, I'm so jealous! I'm glad you explained the whole "SpongeBob" ward. We are super fun aren't we :)! Glad you're cute family is part of it all!

Katherine said...

Wow Deb...what kind of ward do you live in where one of the Scout leaders gives your son a knife like that! That Scout leader must be crazy...and obsessed with knives, setting things on fire, and blowing things up!

The Crash Test Dummy said...

OH JAMIE! Welcome aboard. Everyone meet Jamie, she's da bomb. She's my Laurel advisor and she's always poking me in the eye. I bet you've got a joyful blog too, Jamie.

Katherine, YES, that scout leader is crazy. He's a hunter/gatherer. He can often be seen pulling over to scrounge up discarded tools or coolers or stray fruit left on the side of the road. And he uses his Christmas reindeer for target practice. And he likes to make Imu's out of sleeping bags and slow cook his deacons at scout camp. But you wouldn't know anything about that now, would you! ;)

Hey everyone, Katherine's hub gave my son that honking knife.

April said...

I forgot to ask if that knife comes with steri-strips for when he cuts himself! Because he will cut himself.

Martha said...

What are PJ's? Why wear PJ's when you can wear your clothes you are going to wear to school the next day to bed. I always tell my kids, you know normal people wear PJ's and change in the morning. None of them wear PJ's, ever.

Well I've gone to your Sponge Bob ward. Tell me what character can we assign to T's old SS teacher? The one with all the teenage daughters who didn't let the class get in a word. He threw hard candy at all the kids so they would sit, listen, suck and not talk. I was going bonkers in there.

Please don't let W cut himself. He'll have to get an extra shot.

We just visited your friends at the Health Center again yesterday. Doc was really nice to us because I helped Johnny with his messed up classes. So now I think I have the in with him. Anyway Rachel broke her right middle finger cuz she jumped really high off the swings. So I guess she'll take a break from tennis for a couple of weeks.

The Crash Test Dummy said...

hee hee Martha, my lips are sealed about the teacher who "sucks" (so to speak) and wants the kids to suck too. And I won't mention his "scare straight" method of teaching teenagers to be morally clean.

Amen about PJ's. Amen and Amen. My kids subscribe to that approach to PJ's.

Bummer about Rachael's broken finger. I am missing tennis season, big time!

April, steri-strips! Brilliant idea.