Alright, maybe this seems like a small thing, but it was a real choice on my part to do something for myself. You see, I am the "assistant" scout leader for my son's cub scout den. I have been the leader for the past 2 years, and this year I finally talked someone else into taking over the actual leader job so I could be the "helper" instead of doing all of it myself. Three years ago I saw a table display at a school parent night and thought it would be a great idea for my son to join scouting. I enjoyed being a girl scout as a youth, we are a hiking/camping kind of a family, my son loves nature and exploring the outdoors. So when my son was beginning first grade and old enough to join scouting he and I attended the introductory meeting. The leader in charge (the one wearing the crisp official boy scout leader uniform!) explained that one of us new parents would have to step up and volunteer to be the leader of this new den. Silence. All the parents sat around the table, heads down, eyes lowered, trying not to make eye contact. More silence. Oh come on, said the leader, it is really not too bad, honestly, a time commitment of only about an hour per week. Even more silence. Finally, I snapped, I volunteered. I couldn't take the pressure anymore. I felt like I was back in first grade with Sister Maureen Peter at Sacred Heart Elementary School. One of the many rules there prohibited talking in the halls and bathrooms. Well, on one particular day girls were being girls and chatting was taking place in the bathroom and somehow Sister M. P. found out and upon returning to the classroom we were all lined up in front of the blackboard. Silence. "Who was talking?" More silence. "If nobody speaks up and tells me who was talking you will all be punished." Even more silence. Finally I snapped. I told. I couldn't take the pressure anymore. And that was my first lesson on catholic school justice--because after Suzie Debusky aka " the talker" had her date with the yardstick, I was beaten as well, "for being a tattle tale". I guess it served me right. At least I learned one lesson: that was the last time I would be Sister's stool pigeon.
SO as the silence in the cub scout meeting room dragged on and on, and I was caving under the pressure, one of my mom friends in attendance whispered, "No! Don't do it! You will be stuck doing it forever!" (I can still hear her voice in slow motion being replayed over and over in my head)
But did I listen to her? Obviously I did not because here I am 3 years later still using my free time to plan a skit involving 12 third grade boys and myself which we will perform around a campfire in front of 200 people. No matter how good the skit is, I already know the outcome--the boys will either refuse to speak, sing, or otherwise perform, or they will forget their part, or they will remember it perfectly but speak so softly that no one can hear them anyway and I will basically end up doing the whole skit solo. Believe me. I have been here before. Many times.
Now, I like that my son is involved in scouts. I do not even mind being involved in some of the activities and doing some of the planning. I'm a good sport, I'm an involved parent, I'm fairly organized and creative. But the plan for tonight's scout meeting is a little different than the usual. You see, the boys sell overpriced(!) Scout popcorn as their main fundraiser for the year (and I still cringe nearly every time I walk into a Walmart remembering the years of standing in front of the store in the rain and the snow with my daughter's girl scout troop selling boxes of cookies!) and as a little incentive to spur on their salesmanship skills, the other leaders promised a special bonus for the top-selling boys. Those who sold over 500 dollars worth of overpriced(!) Scout popcorn (honestly, how many aunts and uncles do some of these boys have?) would be awarded the privilege of throwing a cream pie into the face of a scout leader. Now, I am a pretty easy going person most of the time. I could see taking a pie in the face for the team. But it just so happened that my ladies book group also meets tonight. Through some unlucky twist of fate, both events are always scheduled for the third Wednesday evening of each month, are set in stone, and cannot be changed without special dispensation from the pope. Knowing how busy he is, I usually just try to do the scout thing and then rush over to the book club thing half way through. Not a perfect plan, but you do what you have to do. Well, on this particular evening I did not really feel like walking into the coffee shop where the book group meets with whipped cream in my hair and since I started trying to wear make-up since turning 50, well,you can pretty much picture what I would look like at book group. And I had actually read the entire book this time! I really wanted to discuss it!
Well, I have already given you the punchline--I made my husband take the boy to scouts. And I did not even feel very guilty about it either. Nine out of ten of you would have done the same thing, I know you would. By the way, if anyone ever tries to tell you that something is "only an hour a week time commitment", hang tough. Just keep your head down and your eyes lowered. Do not, under any circumstances make eye contact.
Keeping a grip, deb
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