onomatopoopa

For those of you reading this blog (which I'm sure are very few), I would greatly appreciate you helping me with some research I'm doing for a talk I'm giving on Sunday. If you could comment (or email me) with answers to the following questions, I would greatly appreciate it. Thanks for your help!!

What is a family to you?

If you knew that there was a free workshop to improve your family relationships, would you attend?

Why is it important to you to have your family with you in eternity?

How does the Gospel help you in your family relationships?

Of the following, which thing would you most like to improve within your family?
-Family Unity
-Communication
-Conflict resolution
-Listening skills
-Understanding of child development
-Appreciation for family relationships
-Spirit within your home

While serving as chaperons for youth conference this past weekend, we went rafting with with the youth from our stake. There was much waterfighting and colliding between the 20 rafts. At one point our raft made a brief collision with another raft which brought Katie in close proximity to some youth from another ward, whom we haven't met before. As the raft rebounded away this boy boldly grasped the opportunity offered by this chance encounter, and made the title statement of this post. And then the rafts were separated by the flowing river, leaving the boy with his hope that the seed he planted could one day fruit, never to know how truly misguided his foray had been.

When we were dating, Bart and I always heard the familiar jingle from the ice cream truck going at all hours of the night (don't ask how we knew this).

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e2uOzy3cyG8

We've always been curious about who lets their kid get ice cream after midnight? Well, we finally figured out that the ice cream truck was just a cover to sell drugs, thus we renamed the Mr. Softee truck "The Crack Truck." I bet whoever thought of selling drugs from an ice cream truck thinks they are soooooo smart.

Ice cream = happy children
Crack = happy parents (?)

I digress. Last night, Bart and I had kind of a rough night. We had to go to Wal-Mart.
Twice.
Wal-Mart in Philadelphia is not like the nice, clean Wal-Marts in Utah. We decided last night, while we were waiting in a line of over 10 customers, that Wal-Mart in Philadelphia is the embodiment of hell.
We finally got home after the second trip to Wal-Mart and much to our dismay realized that the item we bought was mislabeled. So, yeah, we were pretty bummed. But then, oh wonderful then! We heard that all too familiar jingle of the Crack Truck. We grabbed our flip-flops and some money and ran after it.

Three blocks later we were happy and all of our Wal-Mart troubles had disappeared into our sticky, soft serve cones.