Yesterday in church a sweet and kind man spoke of his father and he mentioned in passing his father taking a drink once in awhile.
As we gathered for Relief Society, a convert lady and I started joking about our drinking days. I was sitting next to a quiet woman in our ward, she seldom says anything, she's very active, conservative and orthodox. She smiled at me and said, "what are you talking about?"
"Our drinking days," I replied. "Did you ever drink, LaRue?" Totally knowing she'd never touched a drop in her life.
"Well, I tasted beer once! It was awful, I don't know how anybody could drink that stuff. Then when I turned 21, my parents took me to Wendover. The bartender told me this drink was mostly 7up and it was really good, so I had several! But I didn't get drunk, I could think and I knew what I was doing. I was sure sick the next day, though."
I just looked at her and laughed and said, "LaRue, you were drunk!" She denied it, but laughed a lot and we all had a good laugh.
Then in the beginning where they ask for the good news, I looked at her and thought, "should I tell them she sobered up?" She looked back and giggled. I was so tempted, but I kept my mouth shut. For now.