A weekend with girls

I went to a Relief Society retreat in Midway over the weekend. It was a smashing success, but there were a couple of head-scratchers that I'm pretty sure wouldn't have happened if this was a retreat for guys:

• There was tons of food leftover, including a whole pizza and dozens of cookies (I was one of the few who actually ate more than one slice of pizza).
• We played a game designed primarily to quiz us on how well we knew each others' names.
• When we finally went to bed, it was floor space that was claimed first, not beds and couches. Two beds and two couches were left sad and lonely all night. Apparently girls' need for togetherness supersedes comfort. Don't ask me to explain it—I slept on a double all by myself and I have no regrets.

But there were some girlisms that I didn't mind so much:

• Like the amazingly comfortable fuzzy socks that came with our handout.

And, that's it.

Luckily, I eventually learned that there were several fellow BYU basketball junkies in attendance—finally something I understood. Except right now I'm wishing I didn't care about sports—it has not been a good year for BYU fans.

It probably won't surprise anyone that my favorite part of the whole weekend was the breakfast send-off. Breakfast burritos are an excellent choice any time of day (even though the eggs were a bit too salty, even for me), but it was the French toast that made me forget about all the bad things in the world. That sauce—oh, that sauce. The two minutes I spent eating each delicious morsel were some of the best moments of my life. If the new bishopric was trying to impress us, let me tell you—it worked.