If I Hadn't Been...

The coolest thing happened to me on Friday.

Astronomy ended and I started walking to the Wilk for soup.

…because who doesn't need soup, silly.

As I was moseying through the Bookstore trying my hardest not to run into people, I made eye-contact with a gentleman coming the other direction.  I thought I recognized him, and there was a hint of recognition on his face too.  We passed each other, and three steps later, I had an epiphany.

I whirled around to see him stopped and looking at me.

"Are you… Uncle Sid?" I asked.

"I am," he replied.

"Well Hi!  I'm Kim's daughter!" I said as I walked over to shake his hand.

We visited for a while and had a jolly good time.  Now.  Let me tell you why this was so cool.

Sidney is my great uncle—my mother's uncle.  There have only been two times in my life that I know I could have met him.  One was at a family reunion in 1998 and the other was 10 years ago when my grandpa (and his brother) passed away.  I was 7 and 12 at those respective family events—so I don't remember really meeting him or visiting with him or seeing him in real life.

How did I know who he was?  I'm just naturally awesome.  That's how.

…Not really.  I've just been working on a little family history project.  I've been scanning the autobiographies of my Great Grandma Lela and Great Grandpa Harry (Uncle Sid's parents).  As I was scanning, I was studying the pictures:

This one a little bit…

But mostly this one:

 I was studying the faces of my relatives, trying to pick out resemblances.  And if I hadn't been in the middle of this project, I could not have recognized Uncle Sid when I saw him.

It was the coolest thing.

You know you've been in college too long when...

Last weekend, I went home to visit my family.  It was a very good and much-needed visit, and I love them very much.

On Sunday, we went to my family ward, and I sat on the pew with my parents listening to the announcements in Sacrament Meeting.  A banquet for the scouts was announced for Tuesday night, and I looked at my parents who had a conversation that went something like this:

D:  Oh yeah.  I need to go to that.
M:  When is it?  Tuesday?
D:  Yeah.  Tuesday evening.
M:  Oh.  I can't go.  I have (insert whatever it was she had to do here).
D:  Oh.  Okay,  I can go by myself.
M:  >cuddles in< Sorry I can't go with you.  Bring some food home for me.

Except she didn't say "bring some food home for me."  She said "have fun" or something like that.  And I looked at her incredulously wondering why she hadn't asked Dad to bring her some food.

And then I remembered that while it is expected—and sometimes encouraged—to take food home for your roommates in college, that kind of behavior is not normal in the rest of the world.  My parents pay for their own dang food.

And it took me by surprise.

Because I'm poor, and I live in a world where free food is an incentive to do almost anything.

And it works pretty dang well.


Someday I'll grow up and not be bribed with sustenance to do things.