Today was the day we scheduled to bless Lego. Brinestone talked to the bishop a few weeks ago and asked if today would be okay because her family would be in town to take her brother and sister back to Colorado. He said that’d be fine, and I, never having been a father before, assumed that this was all that needed to be done.
So the day came, and her family and mine were all packed into two rows near the front of the chapel. Before sacrament, the thought entered my head that I might want to remind the bishop that today was the day just to be safe, but then the so-called rational part of my brain said, “Hey, he’s the bishop. Of course he remembered.”
But then the sacrament came and went, and the second counsellor was barreling right along introducing the rest of the program—they had forgotten the blessing. I panicked and started looking around frantically for advice. Should I start waving my arms to catch his attention? I couldn’t just give up; several people had driven over five hundred miles to be there.
Thankfully my mom handed me a small notepad and a pen so that I could write the bishop a note. I calmly scribbled something about how we had planned on doing the blessing today and how family had come from out of state and how I was sorry that I hadn’t reminded him or anything. By this point, though, it was well into the first talk, so I had to sit and wait until it was over to try to get the note to him. The only thing worse than abruptly walking up onto the stand during sacrament meeting is abruptly walking up onto the stand during a talk.
So I waited and waited and missed most of the first talk because my mind was somewhere else. I passed the note to my brother-in-law, who was sitting at the end of the row, because I was wedged firmly in the middle and wanted to make as small a scene as possible. After the talk was over, he moseyed on up to the stand, handed the bishop the note, and moseyed back to his seat. The second speaker looked a little confused to see someone coming up to the stand just as he was getting up to speak, but he figured everything was okay and kept going. The bishop made eye contact with me, nodded, and mouthed okay.
After the second speaker, the bishop got up to announce that there would be a slight change of program: we’d be skipping the rest hymn and having our baby blessing instead because they had forgot to include it on the program. The blessing itself went without a hitch, and the bishop apologized to me afterwards that they had forgot about the blessing. Apparently the problem is that I never got the appropriate paperwork beforehand, so the bishop didn’t have it before sacrament to remind him. Oh well. All’s well that ends well, as my father-in-law said. I guess I’ll just have to make sure to remember that for baby #2.