It’s so hard not to sing at the cute little Mormon boys who stop by every few weeks. I almost took their book tonight—I’m going as Elder Price for Halloween—but it felt Wrong to lead them on like that. Normally I’m able to stop them with the “hey, no offense, we don’t believe in organized religion” before they start their spiel, but I was dealing with the dog and didn’t get a chance before one of them started talking about nails in wood and spinning (wtf) and how the BoM nails down the other end of the wood, and how Jesus came and spoke to the ancestors of the Native Americans. By then it was too late.
They did offer to mow my lawn, which was sweet of them (and also made me stifle some giggles because I’m actually just a filthy degenerate at heart), and I sent them on their way. Oh, Mormons.