And by low, I mean very low. Like 99 degrees. So low it barely counts, right? Except my temperature usually runs a bit lower than the typical 98.6 degrees. And? My legs ache. Of course, I’ve had unexplainable leg aches and pains my whole life that have nothing to do with fevers but everything to do with my body being worn out. So between the low, low, super low fever and the leg pains that subjected me to medical testing as a child and left doctors going, “I dunno . . . Wait, she has rheumatic heart disease . . . Wait, we were wrong . . . umm . . . I dunno,” I’m guessing I am just worn out.
Though the big Rudolph-ish zit on the end of my nose and the funky feel to my tongue makes me believe that perhaps an antibiotic would be in order. I know I could get them easily enough with one strep test (ahhh, the advantages of being a strep carrier – no having to beg for antibiotics when you know something is invading your body but you think the doctor won’t be convinced by your vague symptoms), but I don’t have a doctor here yet. And I’m not about to go to an urgent care for a 99.0 fever.
I am not an antibiotic junkie.
Anyway, so that is how I felt upon awaking this morning, and this morning was really not the morning to wake up that way. Because this morning? I had to give a talk in church. Then I had to go wave my arms around and lead the music in primary, and the fact that I pulled that off today without totally throwing myself off balance and falling into the rows of lovely, squirmy children is perfectly amazing.
But that’s not what I wanted to share today.
What I want to share is part of my talk. Maybe tomorrow I’ll share the whole thing for a Mormon Monday post (oh. my. word! one of those????) Yes, it has been a while. Anyway . . .
Since we have only been in this congregation for about two months now, I did the traditional little introducing of my family spiel at the beginning of my talk. This is the part I want to share. After explaining where we are from and what brought us here, I said:
As I said, we have five fantastic children, and as many of you know we are a home schooling family. In our last area I could never go anywhere with all five kids without someone asking me if I run a day care. I don’t know why I would be taking day care charges grocery shopping with me, but I guess I do understand why our family might make people curious. So, let me give you the answers to some of the most commonly asked questions we get:
1. Because Heavenly Father told us to.
2. Yes, we can, as far as we know, but unless God tells us to, we’re not.
3. No, the girls aren’t.
4. Matt and I were both blond when we were little.
5. Korea and Vietnam, respectively.
I just said I was going to give you the answers, not the questions.
I swear on my mother’s grave (though she isn’t dead, so that makes it easy) (or hard?) when I said the bit about Matt and I both being blond when we were little several people in the congregation craned their necks to get a better gawk at my family’s pew and my blond-headed daughter. And? There was at least one audible, “Ohhhhhhh!” You know, like, “Ohhhhhhh! Well, that explains it!”
So later, as I was finishing up singing time in the nursery, a member of the bishopric who was in there with his own son asked me if we get a lot of questions about our kids being adopted.
“Oh, yeah,” I told him. “My favorites are when people want to ask a question they know they shouldn’t, so they ask something else, but you can totally tell what they mean. Like, ‘So, are all those kids yours?’ And I just want to say, ‘Yep, they’re all mine. I’m such a tramp,’ because you can just tell that’s what they are really asking.”
And then I realized I talked about my hypothetical trampiness to a member of the bishopric in the church nursery in front of no less than three other adults, one of whom was old and probably easily shocked by such things. Apparently 99.0 is just enough to disable my appropriateness filter. So I beat a hasty retreat from the nursery back into the primary room to lead the closing song, which I don’t. know. at. all! But! I didn’t fall down or use the word tramp.
And then? When we were milling in the hallway after church trying to get all seven of us together so that we could go home and I could collapse on my couch with my laptop and no lunch (because, alas, nothing sounds good), somebody asked if she could have a copy of my talk.
Really? Yes, really.
It’s a good thing my fever isn’t any higher or I might have offered to autograph it for her.
And George, if you’re out there, Tewt the Newt is going to take a nap.