I don't have a picture of our local missionaries, so here's Allen the Younger a year ago.
We got a call last week asking if we would mind having the local missionaries over for dinner. That is something we never say no to! Especially with all of the awesome people in Texas and Louisiana who have fed Allen the Younger on his mission and are still feeding Elle. We are always happy to share a meal with the Elders (or Sisters) in our area!
I called the Elders a couple of days beforehand and asked if they had any requests. The Elder who answered told me that they are grateful for whatever they are fed, but I insisted that there had to be something they hadn't had in a while and would enjoy. With some prodding he eventually admitted that he would love to have pizza and chips because it had been a long time. That seemed like a kind of odd combination, but I was excited to honor the request and so I made a plan.
I decided to purchase four different flavors of chips, each a different brand, so there would be a good variety. I also planned to buy a couple of specialty pizzas and make a few more simple ones at home. I threw together a large salad to balance out the meal and planned on brownies and ice cream for dessert.
When they came over and we started in on the meal I asked, "Which one of you requested the pizza and chips?" Elder C raised his hand. Allen knew that Elder C was from the U.K., so he asked him, "When you asked for chips did you mean the kind we have here or the French fry/potato kind of chips?" He answered that he meant the French fry/potato kind, but that these were great. So I asked, "Do we have the kind of pizza that you were hoping for when you asked for pizza?" And you know what he said?
"Did I ask for pizza?"
He then quickly tried to backpedal and make it sound like pizza was exactly what he had been hoping for. But suddenly my mind was replaying our phone conversation when the strange request was made, and I remembered that the kids were being noisy and I was having a hard time hearing the call and understanding his words. And suddenly it dawned on me that he had probably not asked for pizza and chips at all, but FISH AND CHIPS. He was hoping for a little taste of home, and I heard him wrong.
So instead he got Papa John's and Doritos, you guys.
AND HE WAS SO NICE ABOUT IT.
My only consolation is that I'm thinking this will make a great story for him to tell when he writes home.
Plus, we did have brownies and ice cream for dessert.
(Does anyone have a good recipe for fish and chips so I can rectify this? Better yet, where's the best place to buy authentic fish and chips locally?)