It was the fall of 1983, and I was a skinny, freckle-faced, 8-year-old in the 3rd grade at McRae Elementary School in Searcy, AR. Girl Scouts was BIG at my school, and I had just convinced my mom to let me join our local brownie troop, Troop 420. I was ecstatic.
It was my favorite day of the week because I didn't have to journey home on the bus for 45 minutes. Immediately after school, my best friend Julie and I got to play on the playground for a few minutes and then we would run to Temple Baptist Church, right in front of our school, for our weekly troop meeting.
And to top it all off, we all wore our Brownie uniforms to school on the day of the meeting. I longed for the official Girl Scout wardrobe ensemble...the jumper, the beanie, and who could forgot those incredible knee high socks with the little tassels. I mean, come on, those were SO cool. I'm sure we couldn't afford all of those extras, so I settled for the shirt, vest, and sash. I was officially a Brownie.
The meetings at the beginning of the year started off well. We sang songs with hand motions, which was probably my favorite part. I remember visiting a police station once and attending a Brownie Play Day on a Saturday. I got several badges throughout the year, which my mom proudly sewed onto my sash. But somewhere along the way, I started growing tired of all of the hand holding, smiling, and acting like these strange people were my sisters. I wanted out.
I tried everything I could think of to convince my mom to let me quit...my stomach hurt, the troop leaders were mean to me, I was afraid of global warming, ANYTHING, but nothing worked. I was in it for the rest of the school year. I cried profusely every week for months. Finally the 3rd grade came to a close, and I was done with my Girl Scout career. I hung up my little brown and white striped shirt forever, and I never looked back.
Fast forward to 2008, and here I am again. This time, of course, I'm on the other side of it. Now I'm the one coordinating the hand holding and smiling...and with boys in Cub Scouts. I was, to say the least, apprehensive about this scouting adventure. My experiences weren't exactly enjoyable after all, but Ken insisted, so we signed Levi up and off we went.
We had a deal. I would take Levi to karate and Ken would do Cub Scouts...meetings, camping, Pinewood Derby, the whole thing. That was a good plan in theory, but it didn't exactly pan out for me. The other Cub Scout moms just won't let me do that. Apparently the $40+ I spent on Boy Scout popcorn that tastes just like Jiffy Pop isn't going to cut it.
Now I'm attending all the meetings, learning how to get a belt loop, and even hosting planning meetings at my house with the other moms. And these moms are SERIOUS. They somehow magically know everything about Scouting. If there was a badge for Parental Excitability they would have earned it a long time ago.
I swear I'm TRYING, though. I'm even going camping at the end of this month. So, for now I'm trying to suppress my memories in the event I have nightmare flashbacks. Wish me luck.
3 comments:
Okay, first of all, our brownie leader WAS mean. I'd even go so far to say that she was evil. And she made us sing that song about putting a smile in your pocket and taking it out and waving it around. Or maybe you waved it around and then put it in your pocket. I can't remember. You know the singing thing was never my strong point.
I can fix the boy scout mom problem for you. Of course, Levi probably wouldn't be welcomed back to boy scouts, but seriously, like Ken can't teach him how to build a fire.
Dustin, if you're reading this, I talked to a girl who had the "biggest" crush on you in high school this weekend because you were "soooo cute and hilarious." FYI.
You crack me up. I never did the girl scout thing when I was a kid, just never interested me. We'll see if my girls think they need to do it.
You gave up too soon! Girl Scouts you actually got to cook and also sell cookies.....maybe that's where I got my "sales" teaching? Don't know!
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