Where Is My Merit Badge?

Today I helped chaperone the annual Cub Scout sledding trip at the local winter recreation area.

I drove twenty miles with six nine-year old boys and as a result, am no longer convinced that girls talk more than boys do. Oh, girls definitely squeal more than boys but boys are neck and neck with the female of the species when it comes to both volume and magnitude of speech.

My ears might recover in time to chaperone the trip next year but I cannot make any promises.

Aside from wanting to chew my own arm off in an attempt to escape the numerous fart jokes, poop jokes and odd belching contests during the drive; I enjoyed the trip. The other Scout moms are incredibly cool and we spent the majority of the time laughing and visiting over cocoa and Little Debbie oatmeal cream pies; those are my kind of women is what I’m saying.

And, even though I am still riding the sugar-free wagon and therefore could not partake of the Tools of Satan Little Debbie snacks, I enjoyed the conversation almost as much as watching the boys navigate the ginormous jumps that some adventurous soul had constructed on the sled hill. For the record, no one was hurt but we sure did witness some fantastic wipeouts, none of which involved my son otherwise I would no doubt be typing this from the emergency room.

Which would have been bad since wrestling season starts in just a few weeks. Speaking of, guess who is in charge of the Pee-Wee program this year and didn’t even know it until the previous organizer breezed into the hardware store, dropped off the information folder and booked it out the door with a hurried you’llbegreatthanks,bye!?

Yep. Apparently, Hugh mentioned that we might be interested in taking a more active role in the association, which the old administration took to mean, “hey, let us do all the work”.

Yay.

Forty-five little wrestlers between the ages of five and eleven,ninety demanding parents twice weekly practices, three months worth of weekend tournaments, team pictures, tee-shirts, sweatshirts, singlets and entry dues to each tournament for each child.

And it’s all my responsibility to coordinate.

I mean, come on! Don’t I deserve a merit badge?