It was our great pleasure to host the missionaries for dinner recently.
It's hard to believe that in not-so-many years another family somewhere will be hosting our missionary son at their house for dinner. Fortunately I still have those not-so-many years left to teach meal-time manners and re-visit the topic of why burping contests at the table are generally considered taboo in most parts of the world.
The best part of feeding the missionaries? The post-dinner basketball game:
Even though they had many inches on Ben, Ben's got some skills (if a mother's allowed to brag a little bit) and he held his own.
Thanks Elders, and thanks future Elder King. You being a great missionary is a slam dunk.
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