Mission calls

I've been thinking lately about when I got my mission call in the mail.  There are lots of kids in our ward getting mission calls lately, and one should get his today.

I have two favorite memories of when I got my mission call.  The first is when my parents called me to tell me it came and we agreed to meet at a place half way between where I was and where they were.  I went running up to the kitchen and the guy I was living with (oh that sounds bad) asked if it had come.  I said yes and he asked where I was going.  I said Hammet (the town where I was meeting my parents.  He asked where that was.  It was pretty funny.

Then when I opened my letter the first thing my mom saw was a passport application, and she said, "Passport application! why do you need a passport application?!?"  I laughed and told her it was my letter not hers and to stop looking at things. 

And I had no idea how to say Donetsk.  I think the nearest I could think of was like doughnuts. 

And no I'm vicariously excited for my friend who has her son's mission call in her house and is trying not to open it.  I don't know if I could do it.  Luckily I have a lot of time until that might happen to me.