Once upon a time, there was a little niblet named Kenna who adored visiting her loved ones in CowTown.
Kenna was a big fan of dogs (possibly because the canine traits of slobber production and fuzziness reminded her of her beloved daddy). Kenna enjoyed everything dog-related: petting dogs, scratching dogs, walking dogs, and playing with dogs, but her favorite was feeding dogs delicious doggie treats.
One beautiful June day, Kenna was spending some time in CowTown and got a hankering to see one of her favorite canines: Chloe the neurotic at-eared rat-dog.
That morning, Kenna announced to her mommy, Grandma, Aunt Diane, Aunt Bev, and even to her Aunt Mindy that she wanted to set up a play-date with the Chloe-dog. And she insisted that the play-date include lots of doggie treats for her beloved fuzz ball.
That morning, Kenna announced to her mommy, Grandma, Aunt Diane, Aunt Bev, and even to her Aunt Mindy that she wanted to set up a play-date with the Chloe-dog. And she insisted that the play-date include lots of doggie treats for her beloved fuzz ball.
But despite all of her polite requests and sweet, three-year-old-pleadings, Kenna was not seeing any dog-hair-coated results.
So Kenna decided to take matters into her own hands.
That afternoon, Kenna quietly slipped into the living room. A few minutes later, she rejoined her family, put her hands on her hips, and made an announcement. "I called Mindy," she told her mother, grandma, and assorted aunts. "She will bring Chloe and treats."
Kenna's assertive proactive productiveness (along with her telephone usage skills) became apparent a short time later when the doorbell sounded. When the door was answered, who should be standing there? Not Mindy and the Chloe-rat-dog. No, it was Grandma's visiting teacher who was standing on the front step with a smile on her face and goodies in her hands. "I don't know who Chloe is, but here are some treats," she said.
That afternoon, Kenna quietly slipped into the living room. A few minutes later, she rejoined her family, put her hands on her hips, and made an announcement. "I called Mindy," she told her mother, grandma, and assorted aunts. "She will bring Chloe and treats."
The pint-sized dog-lover's declaration didn't phase her family. After all, Kenna was known for making a wide variety of pretend phone calls. "How cute!" they told each other and then went back about their daily CowTown tasks.
Little did they know, Kenna wasn't being cute. She was being assertive. And proactive. And productive.
Kenna's assertive proactive productiveness (along with her telephone usage skills) became apparent a short time later when the doorbell sounded. When the door was answered, who should be standing there? Not Mindy and the Chloe-rat-dog. No, it was Grandma's visiting teacher who was standing on the front step with a smile on her face and goodies in her hands. "I don't know who Chloe is, but here are some treats," she said.
Mommy, Grandma, and the assorted aunts were puzzled, until the dedicated visiting teacher related the tale of a phone call, place by a very determined three-year-old, to the last received number on Grandma's caller ID who, by luck or fate, happened to be this sweet sister. "Bring Chloe and treats," the little voice had requested. The visiting teacher continued, "I didn't know who Chloe was, but I looked in my cupboard for treats and found some candy bars and Pringles and came right over. Enjoy your treats!" (And at that same moment, somewhere in SLC, Sister Thompson, a counselor in the General Relief Society Presidency, felt a charitable surge in the Force and knew that someone somewhere had followed her counsel that visiting teaching is, "true caring along with teaching…pantyhose not required!")
Amazed at her nursery-aged daughter's ability to get more results with one misplaced phone call than 100 BP executives have gotten with an army of over-paid lawyers in 53 days, Mommy made sure that the next time the doorbell rang, there was a neurotic dog and a bag of doggie treats waiting on the front step.
Ears were scratched, treats were tossed, and both squeals/barks of joy filled the cow-scented air.
Amazed at her nursery-aged daughter's ability to get more results with one misplaced phone call than 100 BP executives have gotten with an army of over-paid lawyers in 53 days, Mommy made sure that the next time the doorbell rang, there was a neurotic dog and a bag of doggie treats waiting on the front step.
Ears were scratched, treats were tossed, and both squeals/barks of joy filled the cow-scented air.
And, perhaps most importantly, a new example of diligent visiting teaching had been added to the heavenly Relief Society record book. And Aunt Mindy has a new story to tell the next time she is asked to speak on visiting teaching. Score!
And they all lived happily ever after! 
And they all lived happily ever after! 
P.S. Happy Birthday Dad! (a.k.a. Homely, Papa, Bishop, Coach, that guy who wears orange all the time, Spencer's Dad). Have a great day!
5 comments:
If Kenna's dad had made the call just before her's, the person she would have been talking to would have been a waitress at Taco Bandito instead of the wonderful visiting teacher. But I'm sure Taco Bandito would have delivered to such a sweet little girl.
Awww... too cute! That will teach the assorted mommies to indeed be fazed by Miss Kenna. I believe she has sealed her fate to be RS President, though.
How cute! What a funny little girl!
Awesome. Remind me to hide the phone from Ruby. Kenna is pretty amazing.
Like the picture collage of Dad, btw. I'll have to get some of those from you.
That is so hilarious!! Kenna is a very, very smart little woman. And you're right - this story is the perfect lead-in to any talk involving Visiting Teaching. You're set for life with that story, Mindy!
Post a Comment