Oopsy daisy

So the other day we had the missionaries over to eat. When the missionaries come over to eat, I go all out. Why? I dunno. Out do the other moms in the ward I guess?

So on the menu was chicken alfredo. Why? It's my daughter's all time favorite.

So I went all out. Seasoned the chicken just perfectly, made some super delicious alfredo sauce, loaded the dish with tons of broccoli. Then I made garlic bread. And lots of it cuz that's always a favorite.

To drink was a choice between Cherry Gingerale (it's pink, that's why I like it, and the ginger means it's superfood healthy), water, and egg nog. Tis the season, right?

And in the fridge, for dessert, I had waiting a choice between chocolate silk pie and pound cake with blue berries and cool whip.

Out do the ward moms!

We set our table for 10, sat down, and proceeded to totally impress the missionaries. This family of 9 will carry that torch high!

Problem with chicken alfredo is it has dairy AND broccoli. And my problem is I'm a Colby and Colby's are notorious for certain Di Tract issues.

I was sitting across the missionaries, doing who knows what ~ sharing my own mission experiences, asking about investigators, can't quite remember ~ when the broccoli and the dairy met in my intestines and began to tap dance.

The tapping turned into full blown clogging.

And I have birthed 7 kids.

I figured, "this'll be silent, or at the least quieter than all the chit chat going on right now" so I went ahead and let nature take its course.

And take its course it did!

Holy hanna!

My first inclination was to blame Jess. Sitting right next to me.

However EVERY SINGLE CHILD I HAVE BIRTHED totally threw me under the bus.

"MMMMOOOOOOOOMMMMMMM!!!!!"

I was laughing so hard I couldn't speak to blame anyone. I looked over at Matt who was also laughing, trying to hide his face behind his fork. So much for "through thick or thin..."

And of course the missionaries weren't your laid back, live and let live types. They were stripling warriors, dedicated to achieve, no none sense types. Love 'em, just can't be tooting around 'em.

I had no one to lean on that night.

So I just laughed. And every once in awhile, I'd get hit with a fit of laughter, hard enough that tears would come.

And the missionaries just looked on.

I don't know if they'll be able to ever take me seriously or allow their wives to birth a single child.

Oh well. So much for out doing the other moms in the ward. I totally blew 'em away! :)