The Rules
The Rules I have three theories of life: 1) Things are always at their worst right before they work out 2) Things that make you sick with dread always turn out to be better than you thought (and conversely, things that you thought were going to be perfect are always horrible) 3) Things always work out for the best My husband doesn’t subscribe to any of these theories. He doesn’t think things ALWAYS work out and he thinks that if something looks terrible, it usually is. So we have a problem and as usual, the problem is that I’m right and he’s wrong. And I can prove it. Take Sunday morning, for example. I have the best/worst job in the church, Primary chorister. There are some problems with me being chorister, not that least of which is that I can’t sing. But the worst part is the doggone visual aids. I just can’t do them. Now the problem with church jobs is that you have to do them mostly in front of everybody else in the ward—which around here usually means your neighborhood. No comfor