What It's Like Being Married to the Bishop--A Cautionary Tale

I can't believe how many times I hear someone allude to the fact that they want to be the bishop. Of course, no one comes right out and says it, but you can tell they're thinking it. I am not an expert, but I can shed a little light on how it effects the family of said bishop.

My husband has been the bishop for almost four years. Where I live that means he is almost finished. I remember the day that he was called. The former bishop and his wife couldn't stop smiling. At first I thought it was because they were so happy for my husband, but now I know the truth. Those smiles were masking a sinister secret.

I'll start with the obvious: When your married to the bishop you do not have any help getting kids ready for church on Sunday. This is already apparent because many of you have been the Relief Society President or in PEC and have met with your bishop before church. Our goal when we started this adventure was to have him be in charge of laundry on Saturday night. In theory, he would find all the clothes for the kids and iron them lovingly and hang them in their closets or drape them over the banister waiting anxiously for Sunday morning. This has happened twice in the last four years. My typical Sunday morning goes something like this:

9:00 Everyone gets up and starts the shower routine. I bathe the little girls and everyone else showers.
10:00 I tell one of the boys to shower for the tenth time. One of the little girls can't find her dress and is standing, crying in only her panties and tights.
10:30 The teenager deigns to grace us with her presence and asks, very politely, if she can shower. (The politeness is just a ruse. What she's really saying is that if I don't let her shower, late, then she will pout and tell me that she doesn't have time to help with the younger kids.)
11:00 The youngest is ready and wanting breakfast but neither boy has found his shoes or socks and both of their shirts are filthy with last Sunday's playing. I tell the boys to look hard for some socks and clean shirts and then leave for a meeting.
12:00 I come back from my meeting and find most of the children ready, except that one. (There's one like her in every family) She still hasn't found her dress and has put on a big t-shirt while she looks. She, of course, stopped looking the minute I walked out of the house and has been playing ever since. We have exactly 10 minutes to scramble around to find something. We usually make it, but she's in tennis shoes.

The second thing I learned is that on Bishop night I can't count on him to be home for dinner. The kids have taken to asking, "Is daddy eating with us today?" The former bishop's wife told me that she never waited for him. I thought that was horrible, until I walked a mile in her shoes. I do still wait dinner, but not often.

The third thing is cell phones. In the four years he's been bishop he has become adept, as all bishops do, at sleeping with his eyes open and with a thoughtful expression on his face. The kids and I sit on the front row so that he can, "See the kids." (I'll go into that later) When we see him starting in on the thoughtful expression out comes the cell phone and we laugh as he startles awake to see who's calling.

The last thing is that he is still a dad. During sacrament meeting last week I was thoroughly enjoying the speakers. I reached for my phone to see something and I had a text. It said, "Separate the boys." I looked over and saw my two boys wrestling on the bench. This situation was quickly resolved. Others are harder. One time I was asked substitute for the chorister in Sacrament. While I was on the stand the boys got rowdy. My husband has become quite adept at what we lovingly call the "evil eye". It will stop any misbehavior cold, even from a distance. Unfortunately, it was defective on this day and had no effect. He got down off the stand and took the boys out in the hall. During the next hour the Sunday School teacher said that he was glad he wasn't misbehaving, or he might have gotten the same treatment.

Don't let this happen to you. Invest in caller ID and avoid calls from the stake clerk. Block your number from appearing in any publication and only give it out to very trustworthy people. If you don't this could be your fate as well. Good luck.