It was Sunday morning last week and Brett and I were slow to get up and get going. The doorbell rang. Here in Arizona our ward is in the habit of sending the Aaronic priesthood holders (teenagers) around the neighborhood to collect fast offerings on fast Sunday.  In the past, Brett and I will throw our clothes on and run to the door to meet the young men who come to our home. This past Sunday however, we just didn't feel like hussling and decided unanimously to ignore the door. Pleased with our decision we settled back into bed. 

Minutes later however, Brooke our 4 yr old daughter comes into our bedroom crying like she'd just suffered some terrible loss. I said, "Brooke - what's the matter?" She looked me right in the eye and said, "Mommy, you missed the prophet!"