Gentlemen, Avert Your Eyes

The first ward Kev and I were in after we got married was mostly dead. Thirty-one funerals in a three month period kind of mostly dead. On our first Sunday, I spent the entire Relief Society hour listening to jokes about dying. Since I'd been married all of about five minutes, I didn't have nearly as cavalier an attitude about moving on and was immensely relieved to be called to serve with the young women (all three of them) a few weeks later.

My first week in my new ward was completely different. Instead of joking about dying, they were quipping about feminine hygiene products. It was in no way crude or irreverent, just a few chuckles shared with a group of women who are required to march down the Tampax aisle of the Walmart on a regular basis. If nothing else, it assures me that we are moving in to a ward filled with families who are at the same stage of life as we are.

And for any of my male readers who are slightly embarrassed about now, you can't say I didn't warn you.