My daddy says...

You know, the primary program has to have that one kid who keeps people awake. In my ward, you know who that kid was?

If you guessed Sylvia, you'd be right.

I should start before we even got to church. My kids hate sleeping, so they were up nice and early and we had lots of time for breakfast. Since this weekend was full of Halloween parties the breakfast discussion centered around Halloween.

Derrick, trickster that he is, told Sylvia, "I think the Holy Ghost is scary."

"Scary?" she leaned forward, eyes wide and attentive.

"Yeah, I mean, he whispers in peoples' ears and tells them what to do."

I rolled my eyes.

We bundled everyone into the car and I drove away, almost early enough to get to church on time. I sat in the back with a friend and shooed Sylvia up to the stage. She's a little clingy sometimes, and this morning didn't want to sit with her class, so she sat with me until after the sacrament. Then, she followed the procession of stragglers like us to her seat and the program began.

The first song was about listening to the Holy Ghost.

As soon as the song was over Sylvia's girlish voice filled the silent chapel, her little voice just loud enough to be heard all the way in the back where I sat, motionless. She said, "My daddy says..."

I covered my face. I knew what was coming.

"My daddy says the Holy Ghost is scary."

I buried my head in my lap, both to hide my red face and muffle my laughter. I needn't have, though--everyone was giggling around me.

That's my kid.

She did a great job. Other than that little incident, she followed the script just as she was supposed to. She was one of the more understandable kids who spoke, which is pretty good for a four-year-old.