A couple of years ago, on a bright and sunny Saturday afternoon, I received a call from my husband, Dave, who serves as scout master in our ward. He was camping somewhere exciting with boys from the scout troop. Our Bishop was along for the trip, too. Since there's never a dull moment with that man, I knew Dave was in good company, and I anticipated with relish the stories he would share upon his return.
Dave's phone call was anything but what I expected. He didn't call to see how I was doing or to ask about our two little girls. Instead, our conversation went something like this:
Dave: Do you think Hank would like to go on the Fathers and Sons outing with me next weekend?
Me: Who's Hank?
Dave: (Laughing) You know, Hank? Our son?
Me: What are you smokin'?!