So the Frenchman left on Saturday, and we got a new dog on Saturday.

Quite frankly, I’m happier with the dog.

Molly is hosting a Frenchman for two weeks, and then she’ll head off to France for two weeks in May. His name is Vincent, and it’s been fun having him around so far.

We took him to Church yesterday, and I complimented him by telling him that he sings like an angel.

He complimented me back by saying that I sing like Darth Vader.

It’s been a budding relationship that I can only hope will influence future nations.

So I walked in and Molly told me to look at her computer. Confused, I looked at the jumble of letters and numbers that only William Moyes would be capable of understanding, and Molly pointed out to me the important bit:

She passed the science portion of the licensing exam to be a teacher.

This is pretty good news, because the only other section she needs to take now is easier than the first, so we figure she’s a shoe-in.

Hooray all around!

P.S. We’ll probably go out for dessert tonight if anyone wants to join us for a bit of celebration. Let us know!

Today was easily the worst Scouting experience I’ve ever had.

The kids were like little cannibalistic spider monkeys, screaming and hitting each other the entire time.  One child cried on three separate occasions, and he was the one who was hitting everyone else the most.

My personal favorite was at the very end, when I asked a Cub Scout to offer the closing prayer.  He closed his eyes, folded his arms, bowed his head, and said, “Dear Heavenly Father, please bless us that our Moms will be late so we can have more time at Scouts…”

I offered a very sincere prayer of my own right there.

The closing hymn for today’s Sacrament Meeting was #163 Lord, Dismiss Us with Thy Blessing.

Then the sister that gave the closing prayer said, “Lord, dismiss us with thy blessing”.

I turned to Molly and said, “Cliché”.

Molly and I played Scrabble a couple of nights ago with Eman, my Egyptian language partner.  Eman speaks Arabic as her native language and English as a second language.

There were too many people so Molly and I played on a team.  We did surprisingly well with three and four-letter words, averaging about 35 points a turn.  In fact, we did so well that we tied for first.

With Eman.

Who speaks English as her second language.

And there was only one of her.

Ugh.

We went on a date to see Shrek the Musical last night, what a good time.  Good old Travelzoo, we paid $32 instead of $59.  I don’t get money for giving you this, but since I like you, here’s the link to get their weekly e-mail (which I love): Travelzoo.

After eating, we headed to Bass Concert hall and got our tickets at Will Call, then headed up to find our seats.  And up.  And up.  And up.  I’m not joking, our seats were literally on the last possible row in the highest possible section of the hall.  We were good sports about it, so we sat down to joke about it and the arm rest broke.  So now there are two uncomfortable pieces of metal sticking out of the arm rest between us.

I took the arm rest to an usher, she found the stage manager, and they told us to move somewhere else and if we needed they’d call the box office to see where some available seats were.  So we ended up in probably the second-best seats in the hall (the first-best are on a lower balcony).

What a steal.

Since I’m the only one out of this marriage that writes on this blog, I get to be the one to tell how it really is around here.  So normally I don’t mind that my wife is an entomologist, it’s just that sometimes she brings her studies home with her.  I’ve learned to deal with bugs in my freezer or stopping to check out every bug that we see.  I’ve even learned to deal with them sitting in vials all around my bedroom.

But I’m having a hard time with the live ones.  Molly needs live bugs for an experiment she’s running, I’m sure this research will earn us millions one day, but I’m not sure millions are worth it.  Because the bugs are kept by our bedroom door, so every time I pass it I scare them and they make their clicking sounds and skitter around, and in turn that scares me.

Now I’m not afraid of anything, and I’ll never admit to being scared of bugs, I never have, and I never will, but these bugs scare me to death every time I go by the door of my room.

I’ve started coming through the closet just to avoid them.

So I’m a Scout Leader.  A Bears Den Leader, to be precise.

I did not like Scouting when I was growing up.  It figures I’d be called to serve.  I guess I should have “not liked” being the guy who passes out programs at the door, so they’d call me as that instead.

Anyway, our Scout Master told the kids, “When you go camping, leave no trace.  Leave no trace at all.  Don’t leave trash, wood chippings, or anything.  When you go camping, nobody should be able to tell you were ever even there.”

To which a Cub Scout very seriously replied, “It’s just like ninjas.”

Molly and I saw seven other Latter-day Saints at the grocery store today.

What is this, Utah?