A Case of Mistaken Identity and Mistaken Gender

Sundays create a sense of restlessness for Ben. Sure, the comfy maroon chairs in the back of the chapel are fun for a little while, but he often needs something a little more engaging. Fruit snacks and goldfish crackers usually do the trick, but yesterday he wanted an adventure.

As we roamed the halls, we searched for treasures under a Christmas tree, and we hunted lawn gnomes in rooms 117 and 116.

As Sacrament Meeting drew to a close, we made our way to the nursery for a bit of tom-foolery. Another individual walked toward us from the other end of the church, but a glare from a nearby glass door obstructed our view.

"Oh, look!" cried Ben. "It's Grandma!" As we walked closer to the individual, Ben and I realized that it was NOT Grandma. "Oh, it's a guy," Ben shouted when he realized his error.

I didn't know how to respond to his assertion, and neither did the 16 year-old girl who was mistakenly called "Grandma" and subsequently "a guy."

She whole-heartedly glared at me when I said, "Oh, come on now, little boy. Let's go find your Daddy."