Note: This is a continuation of my proclamation series.
Don't get me wrong, I had a lot of fun growing up. We went to Bear Lake a lot. We floated down rivers and canals a lot. We would go mini golfing and sledding and cross-country skiing and see the occasional matinee.
But there were lots of wholesome recreational activities my parents put us through which focused a lot more on the "wholesome" than the "recreational." Like the death marches we went on, bushwhacking through the mountains behind our house, or the terribly long car rides we went on where my parents would choose the "scenic" route on the way to southern Utah.
But what first came to mind when I thought of "wholesome recreational activities" was the games we would play together. Board games and running games and hide and seek games.
Most every Monday night, we would have what we called Family Night. Each of us would be assigned something to do to participate. At one point, I remember the sequence to be opening song, opening prayer, business, talent, scriptures, lesson, activity, closing prayer, and treat.
The activity we chose most often was a game my dad called Gadianton robbers. It consisted of one of us (usually him) hiding somewhere in the house as if he were a Gadianton robber hiding in the mountains of Central America. Then the rest of us would be the righteous Nephites hunting down the robber. So, kind of a reverse hide-and-seek.
But there was a catch. You didn't always want to find the Gadianton robber, especially if it was Dad. It wasn't good for your heart.
I remember one time looking for my dad. I checked the pantry. Not there. I checked in the hall closet. Not there. I slowly opened the bathroom door and tiptoed in. I carefully pulled back the shower curtain and
"AAAAAARRRRRRGGHHH!" my dad roared as he lunged at me from the bathtub.
This little Nephite warrior screamed and jumped about three feet and ran back to the safety of Zarahemla before the Gadianton robber could catch her.
And yet week after week we would want to play this game, and we would always want Dad to be the Gadianton robber since he was a lot more fun to find than the rest of us. At any rate, it beat the activity Mom always chose when it was her turn -- laundry. Now that is not a wholesome recreational activity if you ask me.
(To be fair, maybe that was her way of making up for the lackluster lessons us kids would give when it was our turn -- boring lessons we put together in Primary or the bizarre lessons I made up. For the record, I still think my lesson on 3 Nephi 8:8-10 was one of my best. I spent the afternoon making construction paper replicas of the cities Zarahemla, Moroni, and Moronihah. When it came time for my lesson, we put a match to Zarahemla, drowned Moroni in the sink, and had my baby brother sit on Moronihah. I don't know that we learned much that night but it sure was fun. And probably followed by laundry.)
Successful marriages and families are established and maintained on principles of faith, prayer, repentance, forgiveness, respect, love, compassion, work, and wholesome recreational activities.
Proclamation, 7th paragraph
But there were lots of wholesome recreational activities my parents put us through which focused a lot more on the "wholesome" than the "recreational." Like the death marches we went on, bushwhacking through the mountains behind our house, or the terribly long car rides we went on where my parents would choose the "scenic" route on the way to southern Utah.
But what first came to mind when I thought of "wholesome recreational activities" was the games we would play together. Board games and running games and hide and seek games.
Most every Monday night, we would have what we called Family Night. Each of us would be assigned something to do to participate. At one point, I remember the sequence to be opening song, opening prayer, business, talent, scriptures, lesson, activity, closing prayer, and treat.
The activity we chose most often was a game my dad called Gadianton robbers. It consisted of one of us (usually him) hiding somewhere in the house as if he were a Gadianton robber hiding in the mountains of Central America. Then the rest of us would be the righteous Nephites hunting down the robber. So, kind of a reverse hide-and-seek.
But there was a catch. You didn't always want to find the Gadianton robber, especially if it was Dad. It wasn't good for your heart.
I remember one time looking for my dad. I checked the pantry. Not there. I checked in the hall closet. Not there. I slowly opened the bathroom door and tiptoed in. I carefully pulled back the shower curtain and
"AAAAAARRRRRRGGHHH!" my dad roared as he lunged at me from the bathtub.
This little Nephite warrior screamed and jumped about three feet and ran back to the safety of Zarahemla before the Gadianton robber could catch her.
And yet week after week we would want to play this game, and we would always want Dad to be the Gadianton robber since he was a lot more fun to find than the rest of us. At any rate, it beat the activity Mom always chose when it was her turn -- laundry. Now that is not a wholesome recreational activity if you ask me.
(To be fair, maybe that was her way of making up for the lackluster lessons us kids would give when it was our turn -- boring lessons we put together in Primary or the bizarre lessons I made up. For the record, I still think my lesson on 3 Nephi 8:8-10 was one of my best. I spent the afternoon making construction paper replicas of the cities Zarahemla, Moroni, and Moronihah. When it came time for my lesson, we put a match to Zarahemla, drowned Moroni in the sink, and had my baby brother sit on Moronihah. I don't know that we learned much that night but it sure was fun. And probably followed by laundry.)
Your lessons were never boring! Glad you reminded me of that one. And laundry is super-wholesome! Especially when followed by a healthy treat.
ReplyDeleteLike pine floats?
DeleteI'm loving all of these posts! Great job! Also, I may need to add laundry to our FHE's. That's the secret to raising GREAT kids! Awesome.
ReplyDeleteOh my goodness, I love this! I actually still remember that lesson.
ReplyDelete