Opposition in all things?

So Keaton and I went to the temple yesterday.

I am ashamed to say that it has been quite a while since my last temple outing (I think at the time my temple dress had just started getting snug from my pregnant belly.) It had been on my list for several weeks but always something came up. This week I actually had a Saturday off of work and vowed that, no matter what, we would make it to the temple.

Keaton just had a simple request, "Before we go," he said, "could you sew up the hem of my new temple pants?" The old ones were getting too small and he'd bought a new pair that just needed a few inches taken off the hem.

So I did. I hemmed those darn pants up like a good card-carrying relief society sister should. I left them out the night before so Keaton could try them on before we went.

That night, he got home late from snowboarding. Exhausted, he fell alseep immediately.

That's okay, I told myself. He can try them on tomorrow before we go.

My alarm rang at 7:30 saturday morning and I slept through it.

We woke up late.
We ran around the house to get ready--especially since our babysitter (my mom) had plans and had been expecting us for several hours.

No time to try on the pants. Plus, we were both a bit ornery because what was going to be a nice morning session ended up right smack in the middle of our day. We were tempted not to go at all.

But we did, because I SAID WE WERE GOING TO GO. And that was that.

We dropped Jamison off and rushed off to the temple, rushed into the dressing room, rushed into the chapel...

My husband did NOT look happy when I met him in the chapel.

"You sewed the wrong pants," he hissed.

The pants he was wearing were his old pants. The short ones. I had hemmed them up several more inches.

He was wearing what could have passed as a very nice pair of temple capris.
Uh-oh.

A nice, quavery old temple worker chose that moment to approach us.

"Are you married?" he asked.
"Yes," I said, hoping that would still be true after this incident.

He asked us to be the witness couple.

Smart response: "Can we wait until the next session? My husband needs to go rent a different pair of pants."

Actual response: "OK."

So Keaton had to get up and down in front everyone wearing pants he could have stolen from a Keebler elf. Somehow he smothered his chagrin and resentment until after the session was over.

I think the Lord was just using me as a tool to teach my husband some much needed humility.

When we got home, I found the right pair (hanging up in the closet, not in his temple bag as I had thought) and sewed them to a satisfactory (ie: floor-touching) length.

The good news is, we are still married.
The bad news is, my relief society card has been permanantly revoked.