The One With the Mormon Demonstrators

So, I would hate for my first post to be about Prop. 8. Unfortunately, that is what our life is about this week. I spent about three hours on Thursday as a demonstrator at the side of a busy street, waving a big yellow sign. I jumped up and down. I waved like I was in a parade. I screamed and yelled like I was at a football game. And I have to admit that it was some serious fun. I had Skippy with me. He is five years old, and I wished as soon as I reached the intersection that I had brought some sort of leash for him. I could just see the headlines: "Crazy Mormon Mom Allows Kindergartner to Play In Oncoming Traffic." As it happened, he completely entered into the spirit of the thing, and waved a sign the whole time, yelling, "YES ON 8! YES ON 8!" Skippy still needs a lot of speech therapy, or I would have taught him to yell, "Please don't teach me about gay marriage in kindergarten!" That might have made those middle-aged gay women crash their car, instead of just giving us the finger...

I am going to admit that I haven't spent any time until this week waving signs on the street. That made it all the more ironic when the OC Register article came out Friday, and featured a picture of the demonstrators, with Skippy and me right there in the center. Sorry, diehard demonstrators...it just proves once again, that life isn't fair.