Let me begin by saying I think Girl Scouts of Connecticut is a wonderful organization.
And then let me follow by saying that I hated almost every second I was involved in it.
I really wanted to like it.
I started off feeling enthusiastic about being a leader of Number 4’s troop. I envisioned myself with Number 4 (and eventually Numbers 5 and 7) camping, crafting, volunteering, and, in general, just making the world a better place.
I pictured our troop helping out my elderly neighbor who lives alone, and donating money to charities, and sitting around a campfire, holding hands and being all Kumbaya.
Instead, I pretty much dreaded every meeting and activity. I liked the fact that Number 4 got to have a big playdate with the other girls, and I enjoyed hanging out with the leaders and talking. And bitching. But there’s nothing really girl scouty about that…
When a meeting was coming up, I started brainstorming every justifiable reason why Number 4 and I would not be able to attend.
When our troop decided not to participate in the yearly camping extravaganza and some people were bummed, I was doing cartwheels and backhandsprings, and yelling out a huge WOOOOOOOOOO HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
When I had to attend the monthly, Monday night leader meeting for all the troops in our town, I got there 45 minutes late. I played games and checked facebook on my cell phone the entire time. I didn’t even sit in the “circle” with all the other leaders.
I was supposed to hand in the year-end financial statement by June 30th. After forgetting about it and then getting our troop yelled at, I finally just handed it in on August 11th.
Nothing girl scouty about any of that either.
Plus, Number 4 hated it. She was like me. She enjoyed the social aspect of it, but that was pretty much it.
Daisy Scouts have to wear a “smock” for their uniform. It is blue, and quite possibly one of the ugliest and least “daisy-like” garments imaginable, and is in serious need of a Project Runway design challenge. Getting Number 4 to put that thing on was just about impossible, and getting ready to go to each meeting always began with the smock battle.
So, by the 3rd meeting, I stopped sewing the patches onto it. By the 5th meeting, we lost the smock altogether. I still can’t find it.
Who knows, maybe Number 6 managed to completely flush it down the toilet before we caught onto what he was doing…
I couldn’t keep the girl scout promise, and I definitely broke the girl scout law.
So I am a girl scout dropout. A big, fat, girl scout failure.
I guess I’ll have to find a different way to make the world a better place 😉
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