two recent interactions make me think the “i am mormon” campaign in seattle should consider extending its stay.
during a casual conversation with the fish guy about christmas plans he mentioned his married sister in montana really wants him to visit. he then said, “her husband is a mormon. you know. so he’s really in to christmas.”
i pictured chevy chase gathering his family on the lawn as he lit the griswald house with tacky lights.
i like the fish guy. so before he perjured himself further i disclosed my mormon-ness. i then explained mormons love christmas just as much as the next christians but his brother in law’s christmas loving is probably a result of his familial traditions rather than his mormon ties.
then i was chatting at our holiday party with a guest i’ve known for several years. he asked what traditions i grew up with. i told him how every christmas eve we’d get to dress up in granny’s things while grandpa read from luke 2 and we did our best to solemnly play our roles with cues from the aunts and uncles.
this, in my mind, was a pretty standard tradition. he however, could not get past the part where we did this dramatization for an audience of just our family.
he asked what church i grew up in. when it was revealed i belonged to the church of jesus christ of latter-day saints i got a blank stare.
“the mormons?” i offered. understanding crossed his face and then, “oh! my neighbors are mormons but they’re really weird!”
follow-up questions produced evidence that his neighbors are either prairie skirt wearing polygamists or frumpy non-stylish mormons. i’m still a little unclear.
he then leaned in and said, “they’re super mormon. like, really, really mormon. they wear the underwear!”