Hay-ulp! Hay-ulp!

I brought my two, new, manly recruits to the Cub Scouts meeting last night. Whereas I was expecting order, there was chaos.

Parents: What nights are the meetings for the fourth grade den?
Scout dude: You would have to check with Dave.
Parents: Who is Dave?
Scout dude: He's the den master for fourth grade. He's not here tonight.

Parents: Is there any concern about kids with food allergies during cookouts?
Scout dude: I'm not sure . . . if you let us know ahead of time, I'm sure we could accommodate them with some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Scout dude (reiterating throughout the night): It is strictly prohibited that a scout sleep with any adults other than his parents.
Me (silently after the first utterance): I get it. My kids can't sleep in Tommy's tent regardless of how well we know and trust his dad.
Me (silently after the second): Okay, maybe someone missed the first statement.
Me (silently after the third): Uh, yeah, I think we got it.
Me (silently after the fourth): Dude, you're starting to freak me out . . .

Me: If my husband isn't into this, would it be strange for a mother to join the scouts on the camp out?
Scout dude: Not at all! Just raise your hand when you get there and say, "help!" Somebody will lend you a hand to put up the tent.
Me: You're telling me to play the "chick card"?

Onward to important business. Say, who wants to buy some popcorn??

Crystal Light

Today marks our 15th year of marriage which, the hubby claims, is the "Styrofoam anniversary."

Not trusting his sage advice, I just looked it up and apparently we should be celebrating with crystal gifts for one another. With our house in constant disarray, Legos painfully found in my shoes last night and a bulimic cat leaving treasures underfoot, somehow crystal doesn't seem right for us -- regardless of the year.

I personally think this should be the "Molly Maid anniversary."