sticks, beads and strings
make wonderful, beautiful things

That’s NOT what I meant

Apparently I signed up last night for about 12 years of camping, rowdiness, model car racing, field trips, war re-enactments, bb guns, arrows, and canoeing. Eventually there will be knives and wildlife involved. What in heck have I done? I was not my intent to agree to all that, I just said “Yeah, I can do the Tigers.” With 6 words, I have committed myself to a generation of ungirliness. You know I am a total foofoo girl! What have I done???

See, the pack that I was CubMastering can’t find a charter here in Bittyburg. At least not one that can provide what we need: meeting space. So most of us are joining up with the next pack over. We simply can’t have a pack if we have nowhere to meet, and the current chartering organization will not allow us to use the rooms we need, or to have food in the building. Or, or, or. So, anyway, I asked the CubMaster what I could do, and he said “I hate to ask you this (clearly, he recognized the extent of the question before I did)” and I said “don’t hate to do it, I’m here, what do you need?” And he said “Tigers” and I said “ok”. I have one more pack meeting at the old place to let the ones who show up know we are moving, and I guess if someone has not stepped up before then, I have a Tiger Den.

The good news is that none of my sons are Tigers this year, so this is a good time for me to start. I have to be there anyway, but part of the reason we started scouting was so my boys would meet and be involved with other adults (since we homeschool), so I didn’t want to be a den leader for any of them. Isn’t it great when things work out?

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