Lets talk about Mama Jo for a moment and how she is ruining my life. I have known this woman for about 7 years. I Thought she was an alcoholic when I first met her children in primary and we were visiting teaching partners. I was then called as Young Women's President and called her as one of my counselors and also my camp director. That is when she shenanigans began. Once I got released we made a pact to always work together in the church. Then, she was called at Young Women's President and the nut job called me as her Camp Director. More shenanigans continued. We have crawled up mountains in the middle of the night to seran wrap the priesthood's car, and then get in trouble for it by another ward's bishop telling us to be a better example. We have made not very many friends with stake and other ward leaders because we are uncontrollable. We have made many girls cry from a simple bear suit. The list can go on. But this a-hole is moving! We were SUPPOSED to be little old ladies in Relief Society in 50 years. Of all the places in the whole wide world this woman is moving to RHODE ISLAND! Who does that? I ran out of that place! If you know me, I am from the place they call the Ocean State. I have tried telling her all these terrible things about Rhode Island but she is taking a risk and is going anyway even if her kids will turn into drug dealers and be on America's most wanted list. I guess the upside to this insanity is that I am from the place, and I will have opportunities to see her again. But what about Girls Camp???!! Who am I supposed to get in trouble with? I guess this is when I start the "being a better example." here are some memories from over the years:
Thursday night came and we said our good byes. Surprisingly enough neither of us cried. But Rachel really doesn't have a heart so I wasn't expecting much. I won't tell her if I cried when she left though. I made her a Rhode Island Survival Kit, equipped with road trip snacks, beach toys, a potato in case she misses Idaho, cock roach spray and a mouse trap for her new place, and feminine cream for the humidity. Sometimes I am funny. I am currently taking applications for a new friend to bring me cookies when ever I demand them. Rachel called the a "demanding broad with a sweet tooth"
I am mad at her and I hope these pictures make her cry. Also, I am adopting her kids so they don't have to go to that horrid place. I am doing them a favor. Here is our family picture
In reality, I actually am pretty excited for her and her new adventure. I know she will be working less and have more time to be with her family and to explore beautiful Rhode Island. Despite all the bad things I have said about the place, the ocean is gorgeous and I am jealous she will spend her summers where I spent my childhood. Who is going to take monthly peeks at my lady parts when she moves? I have a very limited list of who gets to check out my lady parts, until a few weeks ago she called a party in the ultrasound room and let some other person violate me with a certain disturbing ultrasound test that I would never like to do in my life ever again. But now since she is moving, I have to find a new lady doctor, that means more people to add my to list of who gets to see my lady parts.
Thursday night came and we said our good byes. Surprisingly enough neither of us cried. But Rachel really doesn't have a heart so I wasn't expecting much. I won't tell her if I cried when she left though. I made her a Rhode Island Survival Kit, equipped with road trip snacks, beach toys, a potato in case she misses Idaho, cock roach spray and a mouse trap for her new place, and feminine cream for the humidity. Sometimes I am funny. I am currently taking applications for a new friend to bring me cookies when ever I demand them. Rachel called the a "demanding broad with a sweet tooth"
I've been dying a little every day since you won't move with me...
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