Who needs a motive...

Last Friday we went down to St Louis as we were asked to help with the entertainment portion of our Stake Youth Conference. For the midday activity, we were asked to help carry out a relay race full of tasks such as sawing wood, changing a diaper, hammering a nail, etc. For activities before and after the relay they split the youth into two groups and took turns going to the temple. For the groups that stayed behind before and after the relay, we were to do a live Clue game for them, where we would dress up as our assigned clue character, go to a certain room in the church building, and the youth would go from room to room asking questions and trying to solve the mystery at hand.

They were to solve who kidnapped the bishop, with what weapon, and in which room. Neal is pictured as Brother Adams, the golfer whose golfing victory was stolen from him when the Bishop beat him by one stroke. I was given the role of Mrs. Pheasant, the disgruntled musician whose masterpiece written especially for sacrament meeting was turned down by the Bishop as it did not fit the "hymns only" policy.

When I first found out my role, I figured I'd pick up some feathers at the craft store to stick in my hair (it is there you can't see it very well though). But as I turned the corner into the fuzzies and feathers isle at our local Hobby Lobby, my eyes fell upon this lovely feather boa and I knew it was meant to be. I told a friend earlier today that I think I chose it because of the attitude that accompanied it. I don't know if anyone could put on a feather boa and not have a feeling of sass and snobbishness run up their spine. Ok, so I'm not saying everyone that wears boas fit this personality, but then again, do I really know what I'm talking about? Do I even know anyone that uses these as a serious accessory?

I believe that when I slip it on I turn into this:

Fur coat, boa, same thing. I was kind of mean as my character and do I dare admit that I enjoyed it? For my room I had scattered sheets of music over the floor, some crumpled up, and found a nice selection of angry music to play, all the while waiting for someone to interrupt my practicing so I could get mad at them. They would interrogate me the best they could and I would send them off on their way, don't forget to close the door on your way out. I think Neal was a nicer character although I may never know...

So there you have it, if you ever see me wearing the boa, en garde! Likewise, if ever you feel the need to get the meanness out of your system (please tell me I'm not the only one) get yourself a boa and have fun!