Family Home Evening

On Sunday we had a lesson about preserving and protecting the family in Relief Society, and it occurred to me that we have become lax in holding regular family home evenings.  (For non-Mormon folk, we have been advised to meet weekly as a family to have a spiritual lesson/discussion, and spend time together as a family.  Monday nights are traditionally set aside for this.)  So I made an announcement Sunday night that we would be getting back on the FHE wagon.  My announcement was met with enthusiastic response, and Ella immediately rotated the FHE chart and informed everyone what their job was (hers was the lesson).  Monday morning, I mentioned again that we were having FHE, and reminded everyone of their jobs (in particular, I reminded Ella she had the lesson).  After school I again reminded the girls about FHE, and specifically asked Ella if she needed help preparing a lesson.  She said nope, she had a lesson all ready.

A few hours later, FHE starts.  We sing a song, say a prayer, talk about things going on this week, and then it's time for the lesson.  Ella stands up, walks to the front of the living room, and says, "Oh, no, I'm not prepared."

Cue tears. 

She is seriously standing there, open mouth cry, wailing that she wasn't prepared and everything is ruined.  I tried to understand how she could claim to be "all set" at 4 and "unprepared" at 7, but I never quite got a clear picture of what was going on in her head. It was very sad, and yet very confusing for the rest of us.

I feel like there is a life lesson here, something about if you are prepared, you need not fear (or bawl your eyes out), or even that we shouldn't kid ourselves into thinking we are prepared when we aren't.  Or maybe the lesson is that kids are weird and nagging doesn't work.  I can't tell. 

In the end Dad saved the day by suggesting that we just practice primary songs for the lesson, and she got to go around telling us all to sing louder.  (Note: I don't know most of the words to these songs they are learning, so there was a lot of loud mumbling from my corner.)  So maybe the real lesson should be: Dads are great.  They will bail you out when you are in trouble.