Another Reason Why I Shouldn't Be In Charge

I am responsible for giving all the children (and probably some of the adults in my ward) the world's worst sugar high. Last night was our ward's Potluck/Harvest Party, and as I've mentioned previously, the powers that be have decided I need to enhance my party planning skills, and I am now the ward Activities Person. As you can see, I am so out of the activity-planning loop, I'm not even sure what the actual title of my calling is.

I just know that several times a year I must plan, carry out, and clean up huge group activities.

And that it is not my forte, because my brain isn't organized, non-procrastinating, or detail oriented. Yes, we remembered the silverware and plates - but of course we (I) forgot the cups. And the napkins. Apparently, I just wouldn't be me if I didn't forget one of these important items. Oh well, right?

I'd almost rather go back to my previous job of being Primary President. If I hadn't determined that weekly headaches were worse than (pre-activity) headaches lasting a week, it would be a toss-up.

The Harvest Party was supposed to be all about food. Healthy food, to be exact. The kind people grew in their gardens, the wholesome stuff they canned, the good and nourishing things they brought to eat at the potluck, etc. The food theme shouldn't surprise anyone, because if you know anything about me at all, you know that my life practically revolves around food. I love food.

As great as it is, however, bringing food to display and eating food for dinner didn't seem like enough of an activity. What about the children? Surely they need some games, right? And prizes? Looking back, it's clear to see how my thought process totally revolved around food. Not just any food, but sweet, sugary food.

There was the "Candy Walk." Exactly what it sounds like - just walk around and get candy kids, we're giving it out for free. Not the cheap stuff either - I have "good" candy connections to put in charge of events like this. The candy in our Candy Walk was stuff like mini Almond Joy, KitKat, BabyRuth - the Costco goodie bag, if you're familiar with it.

Then there was the donut eating contest. Donuts on a string for all the little children who had just finished gorging themselves at the dessert table. That's right kiddies, just cram that donut in your mouth, and before you have a chance to swallow, we'll shove another piece of candy at you just for playing!

Pin the tie on the Bishop? The Bean Bag Toss? Candy as both victory AND consolation prize at each activity!!!

And as if that weren't enough, a sprinkling of the candy corn mix with the little candy corn pumpkins on all the tables.

Oh yes. And the good people bringing their produce and canning for display deserve a reward. How about chocolate? That's right, all those little children, with all those little sugar-bug infested teeth, got a pile of big old chocolate coins (the cool ones that actually look like fifty cent pieces) for bringing an entry.

Gee, I wonder why the dear primary children were running around screaming like Banshees on the world's biggest sugar high while we attempted to clean up around them? I really and truly believe that only Halloween itself can possibly compete with my Harvest Party when it comes to sweets and sugar. When I realized just how much sugar was flowing (some children - like mine - won candy in the Candy Walk like twenty times), even I was a little taken aback.

Will I be liable for dental bills? What about parents who lost their minds trying to put sugar-loaded children to bed when the activity finally ended at 8:30? Will they send me anonymous, threatening mail? (Even if they did, I'd still know who they were. I was passing out the candy, remember?)

I have to say, I'm feeling a little responsible here. Where was the message of Health? "Here children, look at these nice vegetables you grew in your garden. I'll bet you would all just love some zucchini, but unfortunately the actual focus of this activity happens to be sugar. And more sugar. Sister S. is cranking out powdered sugar covered elephant ears in the kitchen RIGHT NOW, so run along and help yourself."

Should I feel guilty here? Am I a horrible person who is subconsciously passing my love of sweet, fattening food at Harvesty-Fair-type events on to innocent children?

On second thought, maybe I should do it again next time. If those powers that be decide my sugary-food-one-track-mind is too harmful for the children of the ward, they might feel compelled to release me and put me in the library where I can't possibly pose a food-threat to anyone.

Hey, it could happen. I believe in miracles - it's part of my religion.

For now, however, I suppose I should just act like nothing happened. Sugar? What sugar? I have no recollection of sugar, sweets, or a Harvest Party, so don't try pinning your kids cavities on me! If I can just hold out for twenty-six more days, Halloween will come along and erase all memory of my Loads-of-Sugar-For-the-Children Harvest Party.

Any guesses on why I love Halloween?