Only Me.

I promise this kind of stuff only happens to me. Really I promise. So, in my ward (church) my calling is a relief society teacher. (For those of you who are not LDS, the Relief Society is the name of the organization of women- and on Sunday we meet. Pretty much another Sunday school session but for women only.) So, I am a teacher. I teach every 2nd Sunday. Last month I happened to have been given the topic charity to teach on. So, in between flying to Reno for a wedding and going to Chicago on business, we came home for Sunday because Jason and I both have teaching assignments in church. (Literally, we flew home Saturday night from Reno and flew to Chi-town Sunday night.) I'm getting to the point some time soon! First off, right before RS started I ran out and made a dash for the bathroom. As I'm sitting in the stall, I look down and notice, very distinctly, mens shoes in the stall next to me. Not just mens shoes, but a pair of men's feet inside and legs attached. I pause and think... Am I in the mens' room?? Or is there a pervert next to me in the church bathroom? So I sit there quite as a... church mouse I guess... not to be corny, and I wait. Much to my relief I hear the door open and I quickly lean down to look at the legs coming in. Another woman, 2 against 1. So I continue to wait. He flushes the toilet, walks out and I hear her say, "What are you doing in here?!?" He mumbles something I can't understand and then quickly exits. (Not sure if he washed his hands. I know that's the detail you were waiting on.) So I say to the woman from my stall, "Um that was not a woman's voice!" to which she responds, "That was my husband!!" and starts busting up laughing. So I come out, we have a good laugh, I do indeed wash my hands, and I dash back to Relief Society. They are singing the opening song. Just as they are about to turn the time over to me, I realize I don't have any of my lesson material with me! So I have to run out again, back to the bathroom, to find it there. Luckily there it was. I run back again (all of this in high heels, so more of a trot/teeter than a run). I sit down and they immediately turn the time over to me. I have about 40 minutes. So, as if I wasn't frazzled enough by this point, I get started on the lesson. We read a story that illustrated charity, how two men came to Joseph Smith asking for work because they had no food, and he asked them if he could build a ditch. They built it and he gave them two of the best hams he had in exchange. Now what I was trying to say was that the Lord doesn't require perfection from us, and Joseph Smith illustrated this kind of charity here because he didn't go back and closely inspect the ditch, he just gave them his best meat because he knew they were in need and were willing to work hard. I went on to say, "It probably wasn't the best ditch," but what came out instead was, "It probably wasn't the best B$@%#." (What, you've never used profanity while teaching a lesson in church? No, no. I'm sure you haven't.) I put my head down and immediately feel my ears and cheeks start to burn red and the beads of sweat break out on my back. Chuckles run through the room of 40+ women like a wave, many of who are sweet little elderly ladies. "Did that really just happen?" I say. Another wave of chuckles. It took me a good 10 minutes to regain my composure and continue on with the lesson, but the burning ears and sweat beads never really faded. I don't think I have talked to a single sister who was present without hearing something about it, "I was just thinking how grateful I am that wasn't me!!" or, "I couldn't stop giggling the rest of your entire lesson!" among many others. I teach again this Sunday. Maybe I'll see if I can take it up a notch... squeeze in a vulgar joke or something. And I'll blame it on that bathroom lurker for frazzling me.