Breakfast flop

I failed the pop quiz. 

To be fair, there was no announcement about the ward breakfast in the email that was sent out three days ago. The attachment was included on the email dated June 24. And, yup, I didn't see it. 

We put the breakfast on the calendar because it was announced over the pulpit (and because we knew we had one every year). To that end, the breakfast is always at the same place and swimming has always been tolerated but not encouraged (and in fact is more often discouraged). 

We showed up without swimming suits. All the other kids were in the pool. 

(How did they all know?! I imagine an announcement was made in RS or something.)

We sat on the sidelines listening to nauseating patriotic music and—for my part—feeling incredibly stupid and underprepared. I had a bad-ittude.

I didn't want to sit around listening to patriotic music for half an hour (edit: a full hour—they didn't start breakfast until 10:00, Rachel reports) only to then suffer through a (insufferable) speech about the valour and superiority of this blasted nation (I'm ready to feed it to the alligators, y'all) in order to eat a single under- and/or overcooked from-a-box-mix pancake (which we can—and did—do at home). 

No one was excited we were there (least of all me), so I suggested that we just go.

Alexander was probably too sick to be out and about, anyway. 

So we left. 

Rachel stayed because one of her friends was on her way and didn't want to be there alone. Benjamin fumed in the backseat because he wanted (but didn't say that he wanted) to stay (even though all the youth—the few that were there because half of them (and by half I mean "two," which is, in fact, about half) are at FSY, including Miriam—were in the pool). Phoebe cried because she wanted pancakes (which, as I mentioned, we had later so she's good now). Alexander was just...along for the ride.

*****

That poor kid. He must have had a (silently suffering) doozy of a week.

When we hopped in the van this morning to attempt attending the ward breakfast, Alexander yelped, "Wait! Where's Miriam?"

"She's in South Carolina," Andrew said, after a short pause (because...she's in South Carolina).

"No, literally!" Alexander said, rolling his eyes. "Where is she?"

"She's in South Carolina."

"Dad."

"Literally. She's at FSY. She's been gone since Monday morning..."

"Really?"

"Really. She'll be home tomorrow."

"Huh," said Alexander.