These awards are given when my only reaction to their stupidity is to either tell them exactly what I think or cock my eyebrow in disbelief. Because the latter is always sure to be more kind, I generally choose to do that.
The awards are given as often as I feel the need. This past week has been so full of nominees that I actually had to narrow them down. Here are the winners, in no particular order:
In the category of "think before you open your mouth" the winner is: random doctor at the Payson clinic. Background: Eric put a wood carving chisel through his hand at scout camp and had to get stitches at the closest hospital. Dr. Money (that's really his name) put the stitches in and offered to take them out for free when it was time. We drove to the Payson clinic for the free stitch removal and got a different doctor. He entered the exam room with a laptop, opened it up, and looked at it for a few moments before turning to us. Rather than greeting us he said, "You know those stories you hear about people who go to the doctor for something small and find out they have something big, like cancer?" (at this point my heart was about ready to stop) "Well, I'm the kind of doctor that will find anything if it's there..." Note to random doctor: find a different way to tell people you think you're a good physician.
In the category of "shut up before I slap you" the winner is: Sacrament meeting speaker. She spent a good 15-20 minutes going on and on about how she never wanted kids and why she thought children would be a burden on her life (duh). I am the designated arm waver in my ward, so I sit on the stand in plain view of the congregation. Trying not to cry was out of the question. To any who may wonder why, take a quick look at my baby website.
She continued to talk about how upset she was when, 3 months after getting married, they discovered she was pregnant. She even said that she hated her daughter for a long time for being a part of her life she didn't want (it was about this time that said daughter, about two years old, walked onto the stand and began bouncing on the seats, yanking on the flag, and trying to gain access to the piano keys before her father thought it prudent to retrieve her). At this point I was trembling in rage for myself and the other woman in the ward who lost a baby halfway through the pregnancy. I fought to gain control of myself before it was time to wave my arm for the intermediate hymn. Eric was at drill, so he couldn't stand in for me. My options were: 1. Stand up and rush to the bathroom. The entire ward would have gotten a good look at me in all my teary glory as I ran the entire length of the chapel. 2. Grab the Kleenex box from the podium and clean myself up. Then beat the woman with the box and its plastic canvas cozy. Satisfying, but not feasible. 3. Sit there are hope against hope that I would be able to get hold of myself before it was time to sing. I took option 3. Not necessarily my best choice. Within two minutes of declaring her hatred for her daughter she said that once she became a stay at home mom she realized that she loved her children more than anything in the world and closed her talk. What followed was a very wet, snotty version of "Who's On The Lord's Side" while the ward looked up at me in pity.
Finally, in the category of "committed the unpardonable sin" the winner is: the Other Mike at work. I work at a retail clothing store that caters to missionaries as their alterations goddess. I do not work on Saturday. We hired other girls to work on Saturday. However, last Saturday I received the following phone call:
Other Mike: Ummm... I know it's Saturday, but can you come in to hem just one pair of pants?
Me: Eric's at drill, so I won't have the car until about 5. Why isn't one of the other girls doing it?
Other Mike: She said she had to go. Ummm...the family really needs these pants. Let me see if they're okay waiting until after 5 for the pants. (Talks to family while I wonder why he doesn't care if I'M okay coming in to do the pants because they didn't prepare ahead of time) Yeah, they said they would really appreciate it if you can come in and hem these pants. Ummm...can you come in when you get the car? They just said they really need the pants.
Generally, when a family is this nervous about getting pants hemmed it is because they have come in from out of town and are leaving to go home shortly. Working on this assumption the conversation continued.
Me: Sure. I'll be there after 5.
Other Mike: Thank you SO much. I REALLY appreciate it.
For making me work on Saturday, Other Mike earned himself a week of no favors. He earned himself a second week when I discovered the family lives within 3 miles of the store and his dire need for pants was to go to an interview with the stake president. What's wrong with the pants he wears to church?
Runner up for this award was the customer.