This afternoon I was in my bedroom which looks out onto the street, installing the new hardware for the curtains I've been working on and hyped up on a slightly higher dose of caffeine than I'm used to these days, when I saw two young men walking door to door. They had to be Mormons. I got quite excited and told Big Love (no, I do not have my own sister wives) that I was going to chat with them. A friend had told me awhile ago that Mormons have their underwear provided by the church and I was curious to know if that was true. With the caffeine running freely in my system I was getting overly excited about having new people to talk to in my day. I made up songs such as "Come to my house, Mormons. I won't slam the door. I'll visit with you for a little while if you come to my house, Mormons."
It wasn't until about half an hour to 45 minutes later that Big Love announced the doorbell rang. (Our doorbell rings in the kitchen which is absolutely stupid because you can't really hear it in any other room of the house.) "Is it the Mormons?" I called. "Probably," he said. He still did not believe that I was going to visit with them. I went to door, still wired on caffeine and now a little nervous about actually doing this. I had a huge smile on my face and I said:
"Hi! Are you Mormons?
Yes, we are.
I will let you know right off the bat that I had some good friends who were Mormons. Once I was in a car with one for over an hour and he told me the whole story and I didn't convert.
But I'm curious. Does the church give you your underwear for free?
Um. (At this moment they looked like they weren't sure what they were getting into.)
Someone I know said that the church provides Mormons with their underwear and so you don't have to buy it.
No, I buy my own. (Slightly muffled, perhaps a little uncomfortable answering this question.)
Oh. Thanks! (There were two Mormons at my door. One was African American and the other was your traditional looking white Mormon boy.)
Where are you from?
I'm from New York, answered the first.
Cool! My friend got to do his mission work in Paris.
Wow. That's cool, he said.
How come you get stuck in this craptown?
They both looked at me and said, there are very nice people in this town.
Yes there are, but the little town itself kinda sucks. Are you stuck just here or do you get to go other places?
We go all over this state, said the second boy.
Oh. Where are you from?
I'm from Utah, he said. At which point my eyes opened twice as much and I very excitedly asked,
Really?! Do you have sister-wives?
They both looked completely confused and mumbled a what? as they tried to figure me out.
You know, like on Big Love.
The first boy basically told me that the show wasn't true. I told them that I had just read a blog posting by someone who has Mormon friends and she mentioned something about sister-wives.
How long ago was that?
Um, I read that post three days ago or so.
Well, maybe they're a breakoff because they'd be kicked out of the church for that.
That makes sense."
I'm a little fuzzy on the exact order of things that were discussed. The second boy did ask me if we were religious at all and I explained that yes we were ... blah blah blah. He seemed to have a look on his face as if he was trying to decipher whether I was on something or not. At one point the first boy said that going to Paris would be too hard because you'd have to learn the different language. He mentioned he knew spanish to which I mentioned that it was similar to french.
"You know the world leche for milk?
Leche, yes. (He pronounced it properly.)
Well it's the same word in french, just pronounced differently. I was reading about the La Leche organization. You know, for women who are going to feed their babies with their own .... equipment. (Now I didn't want to traumatize them too much and say boobs. And then I tried to smoothly change the subject.) Where I come from, people have been known to answer the door naked with a beer in their hand when Mormons came to the door. Have you ever seen that?
Well, yeah. They did have, um, robes on, said the first boy.
That's good. At least you weren't exposed to anything that would traumatize you.
Where are you from? asked the second boy.
We're from Western Canada.
That's quite the transplant, he said. To which the first boy said, I knew someone from Canada. It was a strange place, I think it started with S.
Oh, that could be Saskatchewan. How did you know her?
Her father fought in Vietnam and when he got back they were so mean that he left and went to Canada.
That's too bad. I knew draft dodgers. Some were my high school teachers. Well, we're going to take my daughter for a walk now.
Ok, said the second boy. Is there anything we can do for you?
Oh, no thanks. I'm sure you've provided me with enough entertainment for today. I hope you have a good rest of the day!"
And off they went. Probably trying to quickly get their bearings after chatting with the crazy housewife who obviously doesn't get out enough so that when the two Mormon boys at her door make for a nice break from the norm in her day!