Am I?
Getting off the Coke

On Not Murdering The Cub Country Leader


Yesterday I went to Cub Country.

I haven’t been to Cub Country for years (and yearsand years.  But let’s not go there).

It wasn’t nearly as horrible as I’d anticipated, and I really rather wish I were going today as well.

{But today, alas, I have other commitments – so home I stay.}

Cub Country, for those who don’t know – is daycamp for 8, 9, and 10 year old cub scouts. 

The camps have different themes – we attended “Galaxy Quest” yesterday.  {Today’s camp is called Wilderness or Pioneer or Frontier something or other.  It involves panning for gold and shooting bb guns.}

Every boy scout troop is assigned a “leader” who (appropriately enough), leads them through a variety of different stations.  We learned about space, made rockets, went on a hike whilst watching for aliens, and wrangled our way through an obstacle course, among other things.

And it was fun, though it coulda been more fun if our leader hadn’t been an ornery 15 year old girl who obviously should be working behind a computer in a place where she doesn’t have to interact with actual people.  Particularly children.

This girl was snarly, surly, and had the personality of a codfish.

{And yeal I know that’s an insult to codfish.}

One of our little 8 year old “Wolves” experienced a meltdown during leatherwork.  The boys were hammering their names and shapes onto a piece of rocket shaped leather (which they would insist on calling “Fish”.   Snarly, surly 15 year old girl continually snapped back “Rocket!”.  The fourth time she did  she was lucky I didn’t shove a fish/rocket up her....…)

But to continue,

Our little Wolf’s fish rocket unfortunately didn’t turn out quite the way he’d intended.  And he went into total meltdown mode.  Tears and snot flying everywhere, shaking the fish rocket and crying out “look at this!  Just look at this!”

Poor little guy reminded Me of Me.

We assured him, we reasoned with him, I promised he could come to my house and make another fish rocket with our leather working supplies

{Naturally we have leatherworking supplies; we homeschool.}

But he would not be comforted.

Snarly, surly girl merely watched.  Though beside her stood a bin of new, un-tooled fish rockets, each cub had been told he would only be given one

Evidently girls with codfish personalities stick to their guns.

{I woulda given the little guy another fish rocket and let him try again.}

I wonder if snarly, surly girl will be there next year?

I hope so.  Because scouts and scout leaders are famous for being prepared; and I’m taking a rope.


Fish Rocket as Fish...


Fish Rocket as Rocket.