Don't get me wrong, I really enjoy our Christmas social. It's our best-attended social of the year (I don't recognize a third of the people there). But this year, as the Relief Society president, I feel that I had more than my fair share of headache. I wasn't supposed to be in charge of the activity, by any means, but I guess when people have a problem or question, they assume I will have a solution for them.
After stressing for weeks that not enough people were signing up to bring food, I finally resorted to mild threats. I also bought the hams and turkeys to cook for the main dish. Luckily, I was able to borrow roasters, and I figured I'd cook them myself--no big deal; it's just as easy to cook 7 as it is to cook 1. However, the day of the social turned into a nightmare when I did not do a mental calculation of how many amps our kitchen breaker could support. So, of course when I plugged all those roasters in, our breaker failed. A simple reset didn't fix the problem, and while I drove the roasters to the church kitchen, I prayed that the food would be cooked by 6:00. It wasn't. So, at 6:45, I apologized to the gym full of hungry ward members, and told them that while the ham was pre-cooked and safe to eat, the turkey wasn't done yet, and that they'd have to come back later if they wanted any.
I quickly realized that RS presidents don't get to actually enjoy socials, since they are busy finding serving spoons, refilling water jugs, and answering questions about the program for the evening, including at what time exactly the Santa should get dressed. And, of course, the closing prayer was a signal for everyone to hurry home, without a thought to helping clean up, and half of them forgetting their dishes. (Thank you Amy, Joanna, and Rose for all your help--you saved me from a breakdown!)
So, one of my New Year's Resolutions is that I will never do this again. Ever. My counselors and I will plan and carry out events for the RELIEF SOCIETY only, as intended. Watch out, Ward Council, I'm putting my foot down.
Anyway, while I was in the kitchen washing dishes in the hopes of getting home by 9:30, I persuaded Chad to take Mason to see Santa (Bree was at my Mom's). As Chad pointed out, there's really no point; he's too young to know any better. But he sure looks cute.