You have a new bishopric. This is their first Sunday. They are fumbling a little. The counselor releases your ward mission leader, Brother X, and then asks for a vote of thanks to him or her. He adlibs that the bishopric is here to serve the ward, if only through comic relief.

The theme for the talks is Boy Scouting.  You are worried; a nice investigator family with the cute little daughters of the world is attending for the first time.  The talks won’t have much to offer them, you think.  The first speaker is the Scoutmaster.  He has a bunch of girls, no boys.  “My job,” he says, “is to raise the kind of men I’d want my daughters to marry.”  Bingo.

A guy who moved in to your ward a year ago tells how a dream his little sister had, telling her to go to primary, brought him back into the church as a teenager (no one else in the family wanted to take her, so he got the detail).

In Elders’ Quorum your baby daughter belches like a hog after you give her a bottle. You spend the afternoon making lemon icecream and French fries for your oldest daughter’s birthday dinner.

That is your Mormon Sunday.