Blue and gold

Marie's birthday is in 8 days. Who gave permission for my baby to grow up? Not me. 

The children love the books!

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.

But, as darling as my daughter is, this post is not about her. 

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.