Enrich THIS

My current church calling is Enrichment Leader. This is one of life's many proofs that, indeed, Heavenly Father has a sense of humor. Enrichment is one of those things I'd never bother going to above once a year—if that—'cause honest to heaven, I'd much rather stay at home and read a book. So how did I end up here?

I can just hear the Angels Responsible for Matching Individuals to Incompatible Callings plotting the whole thing:

Angel 1: "So, who should we get to do Enrichment in this ward?"
Angel 2: "How 'bout that wynne-thing?"
(look at each other and burst into laughter)
Angel 1: (gasping for breath) No, no seriously. Who?
Angel 2: The wynne-thing. Honestly.
(another outbreak of laughter so severe it shakes some snow out of the clouds onto the Sahara desert)
Angel 1: Oh, oh! (holding sides) Oh, that's good. (Wipes away a tear) Sure, why not?
Angel 2: Yeah. It'll be fun to watch.

It's just not...my thing. But I do it because I was asked. Why isn't it my thing? If I could simply have a class or a dinner, it would be fine. But instead, it must be an Event. It must have a Theme, a Clever Title, a Program, a Color Scheme, and Coordinated Refreshments. Way over my head.

Luckily, the other women seem to recognize my ineptness at All Things Cute and take matters into their own capable hands. I just get swept along in the tide of creativity, perfectionism, and over-the-topishness, and end up in some pretty strange situations some nights, wondering—now, how did I get here? Where did all these people come from? Why am I draped in loose fabric, holding a baby doll, with a spotlight shining in my eyes*? What the crap is going on?

Our last Enrichment Night back in March was "Misson Possible: Technology Today!" (where, and I kid you not, we taught the ladies of the ward how to use some of the expensive technology that they insist on buying without having the slightest idea of how to use it.) That particular night, I found myself in a trenchcoat and sunglasses dancing** in a strobe light with Gladys Knight to the theme song from "Mission Impossible." (Though it wasn’t just Gladys—it was most of the Enrichment Committee. Gladys just happens to be one of the committee members.)

Hmm.

Thank goodness there are only four Enrichment nights a year.

*That's what they made me do for Christmas. They made me sing, too.

**Can’t really consider what I was doing “dancing.” The strobe light was very disorienting, and I’m not exactly a dancer, so I have no idea what really happened that night. The good news is: 1) I didn't injure myself; 2) I didn't injure anyone else, either—that I know of; 3) I think the lighting disoriented the audience as much as it did the performers, and so I am safe from judgment.