I was raised Mormon in Salt Lake City, Utah. I have not been a practicing Mormon for approximately 24 years. Yet they keep visiting. They keep calling. Yesterday I let two young girls in for approximately 45 minutes as tactics such as rudeness and asking for my name to be removed from their lists, asking them not to call or come by have not worked. I offered them a beverage. They accepted and sat side by side at our dining room table. I smiled and asked a few easy questions about whereabouts and numbers of siblings--5 and 6, respectively. Then I smiled and asked some hard questions about family. They smiled and didn't answer them, except to tell me to visit General Conference, the great meeting of Mormon minds. I smiled and said, "I don't need a bunch of nearly dead white guys telling me what to do." They smiled and asked if they could visit again next week. I said yes.
And then sent them to my best and most beautiful partner in crime's house to do some weed whacking, but with this warning, "Be careful. She might bite." And this might be a good thing for them. A very good thing. Maybe even "A Small, Good Thing" if they're lucky.
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