A fresh Mormon hell

"Moooooooooom!" The noise bleating through my phone could only be my college-age daughter. With boy problems. Again.

It's happened before. She's tall and gorgeous and hysterically funny so she's a hit with the guys at Bee Why Woo. She has had her share of dates and relationships and heartbreak the past year. But this time the problem was much more serious. With the beginning of a new semester this month, new callings had to be made in her ward. She was retained as the Activities chairman but she was lacking a co-chair. The counselor in the bishropric fancies himself a matchmaker and hand picked a special guy to fill the spot. A newly-returned missionary who was tall. Yeah, tall, blond and glowing with religious fervor and mating hormones. The most dangerous species roaming the campus in search of prey pray. And she's falling for him!

I really want to go punt kick that damn counselor in his puny little balls (right through his impervious magic underwear) for doing this to me my daughter. She's 19 and has a whole hell of a lot of living to do before she settles down. I constantly tell her this. We have this general conversation at least once a week:

"Mom, I LIKE him! We CUDDLED!"
"You're not getting serious with anybody. I'll lock you in the basement and make you take classes online. Don't end up like me."
"Thanks mom, I needed to hear that."
"Any time, dear."

Wicked, eh?

I'm thinking there needs to be a new type of chastity belt but for the ring finger! Make it impossible for some horny little dude to slip on an engagement ring and trap a girl. Something kind of like this.

I'd better make two of these babies. I've got another daugher getting to that age and her Laurel class just went to White Elegance to try on ugly modest wedding gowns. (Why the fuck couldn't they have had a class on filling out a college application instead?!)

Being an apostate mom is a rough job but someone has to do it.