
This Sunday Fernando was sustained as the Scoutmaster in our ward, and our little family gathered in the Bishop's office after church for his setting apart. Miranda and I had just spent an exciting 10 minutes in the bathroom where she was attempting to take care of business, complete with tearful screaming echoing down the hall interrupting people's comments about Paul's letter to the Corinthians. So we arrived a little late and a little breathless at the setting apart.
Miranda was reverent during the blessing (except for one unwhispered comment to me, "Mom, he's a good blesser!"), and after the blessing the Bishop turned to Miranda, who was sitting small in a big chair and holding a sucker, and he said, "Hello Miranda. Is your sucker good?"
"No," she said. Pause. Staring at him she continued, seriously. "I had a poo poo problem. Some came out but some was still in. Mommy helped me get it out."
We laughted nervously. I threw in my compulsory joke during uncomfortable moments: "She feels the need to confess to you."
As we left, the bishop said, "Bye, Miranda. Good luck with that."