Marie's birthday is in 8 days. Who gave permission for my baby to grow up? Not me.
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| The children love the books! |
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| She's getting quite adept at standing and has taken a step or two on a couple occasions. Also, she's basically the happiest baby that has ever lived. |
No, this post is about my recent foray into the world of Cub Scouts -- a world with which, with the exception of Pinewood Derbies, I am completely unfamiliar.
I was called to be a Cub Scout leader a couple weeks ago. When I was extended the calling, I was under the impression that I would be able to choose the day of the week that worked best for me to hold den meetings. Later, I found out that meetings are held Wednesdays at 6:00.
Joke was on them! The first Wednesday after I received the calling, I had Parent-Teacher Conferences until 7:30. Starting this Wednesday and for the next six weeks, I'm taking a class that goes from 4:30 until 6:50. So I'm being a super active participant these first two months.
But I'm not one to shirk my responsibilities so easily! The Sunday I was set apart, I attended a meeting with all of the Cub Scout leaders to plan the Blue and Gold Banquet, which took place last Wednesday, and which I was actually able to attend. The other three women took charge of the meals, decorations, and the activities. I was given two jobs: 1) Acquire enough lengths of rope for a knot tying activity, and 2) Buy three bags of ice.
(Allow me to interrupt myself and say that I would have helped with the meals and decorations had I not been working when they wanted to get those things put together. Lest you think that I'm just super lazy or something.)
Well, I asked one woman in the ward where to get rope, since she mentioned a place where you can buy it for a good price, and she volunteered to just get it for me. So that left me with the very important job of bringing ice.
I didn't want to screw this up. If we had warm beverages, it would be all my fault! So just before the banquet on Wednesday, I headed to the store and made a beeline for the freezer section. While there, I realized that I never asked what size bags of ice I should procure. I was able to eliminate the 10 pound blocks of ice right off the bat, but the store sold both 7- and 20-pound bags of ice. Which one, which one?
I hemmed. I hawed. I called Jacob to ask his advice (but it went to voicemail). I finally decided that 60 pounds of ice would be an absurd amount and settled on the 7 pound bags. (Also, I wasn't sure how I would physically carry 60 pounds of ice into the building, because heavens knows I didn't want to take more than one trip to and from the car. That was a primary factor in the decision-making process.)
As it turned out, even with a mere 21 pounds of ice, we had more than enough as it was.
You may all marvel at my contribution to the banquet now.
