We've been lucky with Paige. She's never told us that she hates us or even called us "Bad Mommy" or "Bad Daddy." In fact, she's never told us that she hates anything. Until we started having Family Home Evening.
As bad Mormons, Traci and I figured we could get away with not having family night, given that the family spends every night together. But now that Paige is in primary, we figured we'd better start.
"Paige, we're going to have Family Night."
"What's Family Night?"
"It's where we sing some songs and then have a lesson. It's just like primary."
"I don't want to have Family night."
"Come on, it will be fun. We'll have a treat after."
Traci started with a song, but Paige was clearly still not happy about the idea. She started wandering around, mumbling something under breath.
I listened carefully to figure out what you she was saying.
"What did you say?" I asked.
She looked up at me and whispered timidly, "I hate this."
"What?"
"Family night."
So of all the unpleasant things Paige has experienced in her short little life--shots at the doctor, being left at a babysitter's, eating her vegetables--only Family Home Evening causes her to express hatred.
Oh, our little Sunbeam.
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