Today during church, a high councilman was a visiting speaker. He asked over the pulpit who's child was the cutest. (I often practice for just such situations by making sure I repeat the phrase "my daughter is cuter than your daughter" often at random times. So far I haven't actually said this to anyone, except Will, which ends up in an agrument.) Due to this practice, in combination with the tendency of church members to assume questions asked over the pulpit are rhetorical, both Will and I independantly stuck our hands up high in the air, volunteering Reese as the cutest baby. Seeing our boldness, other parents soon raised their hands, too. The high councilman said that's just what he suspected: Everyone thought their child was the cutest.
Not to be outdone, Will grabbed Reese and held her above his head, Lion King style. The high councilman pointed to Reese and said "That little guy is the cutest one in the room." Someone shouted "That little girl..." but apparently not loud enough. The high councilman proceeded to tell a hypothetical scenario that I'm sure related very deeply to some spiritual concept, referring to Reese as a he ("Like that cute little boy", he would say). Meanwhile, well-intentioned members would try to correct him, but he was the one with the microphone, so he didn't hear anyone. Finally he stopped and asked us what Reese's Name was.
"Reese" called out Will, "and she's a girl".
The high councilman was dumbfounded. "A girl? She looks like a boy. Great, my wife is going to spend the rest of the day making fun of me for this one." The whole congregation bursted with laughter. Everyone in the ward had something to say to us after the meeting was over. Those without kids had to tell us she really was the cutest little girl they'd seen, and those with children had to agree she was the cutest little boy they had seen. It was kind of a riot.