Bobbi King-isms

There's this little old lady at church.

Her name is Bobbi King.

She has a very thick Texas accent.

She has a crush on Husband.

Sometimes at church, she pulls me aside to tell me how marvelous Husband is.

And how it's a good thing I've already snagged him or else all the ladies at church would be fighting over him.

And, she may or may not be the main reason I go to church every week.

Because, if Bobbi King thinks it, Bobbi King says it.

And not like in a side whisper.

I'm pretty sure Bobbi King has never whispered in her entire life.

It doesn't matter if someone's in the middle of a story, a tender moment, or a powerful testimony, Bobbi King basically expectorates her thoughts.

Oh, and did I mention that sometimes, her thoughts have nothing to do with what's being talked about?

You can't miss it.

And you don't want to.

It's hysterical.

Today a lady was telling a story about how she'd given a random lady $20 when the lady had approached her with some sad story about how she needed to buy a bus ticket.

Bobbi King piped up, "Well, Phyllis, now we know what a soft touch you are.  I could use $20, too."

At the end of the meeting, song books had failed to be distributed (um, I might be in the market to be the Relief Society song book coordinator.  You know, if someone's looking for one), so someone suggested we sing a song we all know the words to.

Bobbi King suggested we sing Jingle Bells because, "If you don't know Jingle Bells, you must be some kind of idiot."

I love her.

Loooooooovvvvvvveeeee.

Happy Valentine's Day, Bobbi King.