We see Mormon missionaries walking around our complex from time to time and the thought of them stopping by our places generates interesting dialogue around here. We’ll get political with ’em and tell ’em what we think about Prop 8! We’ll tell them not to mess up our chance to have legal rights in Maryland!
Well, it happened and despite all the preparations, it was a little unexpected and threw us off our political groove. And it was only slightly awkward. We don’t get many visitors, so when there’s a knock at the door it means something crazy is about to happen. Dan peeked through the peephole on the door, gasped, and opened the door. Expecting the police, I was surprised when I heard (from the other room) someone ask for Dan by name. Misha bounded for the door, so I went toward the door to snatch him up. And there they were. Missionaries.
I grabbed Misha and stepped into the other room. Mostly to keep Misha from running out the door, but also to keep Dan from hearing me laugh. They asked Dan when he stopped going to church. He replied, “When I married him” and pointed to me. (It was actually before we got married, but he just needed something to say to get them to leave).
They responded about how you’d expect. “Oh…. uh…”
And then they were gone.