What have you selectively forgotten about adolescence?

It never ceases to amaze me about the inevitable but endearing awkwardness attached to visiting the home ward. On the one hand, it is the large part of the community that raised me, sent me off to school with the highest hopes and then excitedly planned bridal showers and put on a well catered reception for me when I finally got married (even though I was the tender age of 22 when that happened, I think that they all gave out a big exhale since before Matt I showed less hope than my hip, American Eagle wearing girls camp peers).

Make no mistake, they did lots for me. But on the other hand, it is always alarming to me how much they remember about the most poignant (and therefore worst) moments of my adolescence. Maybe it is the selective memory kicking in, but I have managed to forget many of my terrible one liners I got so comfortable spouting off at activities like I was the child star of some bad 90s sitcom. They recount my gawkiest, graceless, vulnerable moments with such fondness which I am not sure how they could be going for anything but the ironic amusement route.

I will spare you the details of these stories that make up my mutual activities, girls camp outings and pulpit points I made as a youth speaker. The thing is, if you really wanted to hear any of these stories, you would be better off asking Granite Ward's newest Relief Society president or my mom's old visiting teacher - they honestly know these stories better than I would myself. And although they would tell them to you with the honesty and accuracy that would make you flinch like a replay of The Phone Call, I still have the dignity of not having participated in the talent show lip sync to Hansen's MmmmBop at girls camp.

This picture could be worse I guess - at least I opted out of wearing my overalls on the hike.