Failure

Well there we were, Superman and I, planted on our little chairs in Nursery.  The little darlings were fighting playing sweetly with the race tracks and dolly furniture.  The last little boy to arrive brought his own Book of Mormon.  He was very excited to have his own book of scripture.  We asked him if he wanted to hold it or put it on the table.  The overwhelming desire to play with the train consumed his little soul.  He put the book down.  Then from the corner of the room we hear a tiny little chipmunk voice say 'This isn't a scripture class anyway.'  Ah, well thank you special little spirit.....it had only been moments from my last failure and the taste was beginning to leave my mouth......I couldn't quite remember what it was like.  But now I do.  That's right, no scriptures are being used in our Nursery. 

Dumb Things That Make A Girl Happy

Try not to be shocked......there are some things I am not very good at.  I jokingly said the other day that I had just found #3623.  The joke is that the number is significantly higher.  The first 1000 probably having to do with lack of self control.
The thing I wasn't good at.....actual mountain biking.  I have ridden a mountain bike on surface roads and dirt hills for years.  I have not, until the other day, ridden on actual mountainous trails.  We decided to go camping before the actual holiday rolled around.  Thus avoiding a handful of things I don't like; other people, other people, and all of the things that come with other people.  Superman graciously lent me the use of his mountain bike.  I had wisely left mine at home hoping to avoid the coming situation.  Much of my problem had to do with the fact that his legs are a hair longer than mine and I was terrified of a bloody crash involving the 'boy bar' and my body parts.   The dirt was very loose and there were lots of large rocks.  I learned about applying both the front and back break.  Squealing ensued.  There are many appropriate times to welp out a good squeal.  This, among times such as; making cotton candy for school functions, flying down country roads on a four wheeler with a maniac at the wheel, being tasered in the dark by your spouse, using a got glue gun, being poked with sticks by your children and their friends........
I am happy to say that it ended well.  I only bailed into the bushes once.  I'm not good at mountain biking.  Not yet.
So there I am sitting by the campfire in my layers of clothing, including a fleece jacket, down vest, and some sort of Northface kind of get up.  The kids are surrounding me like I am beautiful Glinda the Good Witch and they are little Munchies.  Daddy is inside the trailer taking care of everything that I don't take care of when we camp (everything).  Along comes one of our camping neighbors with his 10 year old daughter in tow.  He asks if our parents are around.  I lit up like a firework.  You would have thought he just handed me a ridiculously large check and informed me of winning Publisher's Clearing House.  I was beyond stoked that he thought I was a child.  Granted the guy was trolling for drugs, which is what he wanted to ask our parents for.  So I guess he's not really a reliable sort of fellow.  Guess what........I DON'T CARE!!  Ya, someone mistook me for at least a teenager, AND it wasn't even dark! 
This bodes well for my goal..........Live to be 100, look 60, act 15.  I have a feeling I will need a lot of time to really work on the first 1000 things I'm not good at......all having very much to do with lack of self control.