Why Cain Killed Abel and Why Dobby Took an L

According to our articles of faith, Latter-day Saints “believe the Bible to be the word of God as far as it is translated correctly.” One of the old classics is the rivalry of Cain and Abel, which culminates in Abel’s murder and Cain’s cursing. The ostensible reason for the murder is envy over accepted offerings. Sibling rivalry stuff. We Latter-day Saints have layered on our own interpretations fraught with priesthood and the law of sacrifice. I’m not sure anyone has gotten it right. Until now.

As I have said, Lindsay is at her boyfriend’s house for Easter weekend. Lots of Carson’s family are there too. One of the visitors is a big Swiftie and asked Lindsay to share pictures of her Taylor Swift experiences. Of course, Lindsay asked Lauren to dig some out, and Lauren went scrolling through years of photos. Then, she found this. It’s not a Taylor Swift pic, but it is definitely saying something.

Lucia’s takeaway was, “I miss that jumper I was wearing.”

Mine? It’s clear to me now—Abel got the ice cream sundae and didn’t share, and I think we would all have to admit that maybe Cain’s reaction was, if not justified, relatable. Especially if Abel sat there at the table just lording it over him and mugging for the camera.

Back here on the home front, we are not huge ham or lamb fans, so I smoked a pork butt on Saturday to be used for Easter. It was fifty degrees, sunny, with a moderate northwest wind. You might recall Grant’s struggle with a huge brisket a couple weeks ago. Keeping your smoker warm for fourteen hours in this weather is a true challenge, so I modeled for Grant more reasonable targets. I got a four-pound pork butt and some spare ribs. I made some videos of how to do each step and sent them. He alleges he appreciates this effort and will do better next time. I let Dobby hang out with me outside, and of course, he was well mannered and followed me around while I did my thing … by which I mean, as soon as I dumped out the old ash from my last bbq, he went and rolled in it.

This, of course, required a bath. I let him stay dirty and play outside most of the day before said bath. It rained all this past week, and we are due for more this week, which makes it tough for him to get outdoor time.

But I caught him pondering his existence late in the day. I’m pretty sure in the following moment, he is thinking, Getting dirty felt so good but I know a bath must be coming. Why can’t I stop myself?

But that’s just the thing, right? You shouldn’t roll in bbq ash when you know the consequences nor murder your sibling over fried ice cream. And when you smoke meat, you can save your hair if you listen to your dad.

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