So, two of the wards in our stake put on a performance of The Forgotten Carols. Did they invite the young single adults to join them? Not so much. They invited us to run the children's rooms they provided so the adults could enjoy the performance in peace. Which is fine. I volunteered, I went and I had a fine time. But as much as I hate to label children, some of them were hellions. And as the performance stretched past 8:30 pm ALL the children became tired, cranky, stinky, and/or obnoxious. There were a pair of sisters who wouldn't stop crying for their mom who, in fairness to her, warned us that they might and told us to come get her if they didn't. And then disappeared into a darkened gym. Good times. By 9 o'clock I had changed a stinky diaper, dealt with a hysterical little girl's bloody lip after she ran into another kid, and wiped countless snotty noses. I don't regret volunteering, but I would like to say it made me feel WAY better about being single and childless at this moment. A lot better. To the point of being smugly self-satisfied as I watched parents bundle up their crying children and exhaustedly walk them out of the nursery rooms. Then I walked out to my car to find it in full-on Point-of-the-Mountain-Utah-blowing-vertical-snow-blizzard mode. And I, unlike the children, and the other YSAs who were making snow angels, was not amused. It took me 25 minutes to get home. It usually takes me 5. Good thing church doesn't start until 11 am tomorrow.