It’s that magical time of year when thousands of elementary school-aged boys get sucked into joining the Cub Scouts. As the mother of two boys (and one girl), believe me, I’ve been down this road twice. I know the drill.
Your son may have gotten off the school bus, frantically waving an informational flyer, spewing all the reasons why he wanted to be a scout.
Pocket knives? BB guns? Bows and arrows? Pinewood Derby cars?? Okay, fine…we’ll go to the informational meeting and learn more, you said.
Mwhahahaha! You’re toast.
Hope you brought your checkbook, Sucka, because you’re not getting out alive.
If you managed to avoid eye contact while they trolled for fresh den leaders, congratulations. You’re a stronger person than I. However, you’re not out of the woods yet.
Sooner or later, you are going to have to go camping with these people. And take it from me, camping is not for everyone.
My pack’s Fall Family Camping is right around the corner and I can already see the panic in some of our new parents’ eyes. If you’re on the fence about camping with 50 Cub Scouts and their whole families, here’s a helpful quiz to help you decide if you should go:
My gut reaction to the idea of camping with other people’s children is…
a.) Yay! Can we eat S’mores and sing campfire songs and go fishing?!
b.) Ooooh, gosh, I don’t know about this. Which families are going, exactly?
c.) Can’t. It’s a violation of my restraining order.
d.) Aw, hell to the no.
When I see a bug, I…
a.) Pick it up and let it crawl over my hands while appreciating the unique shape of its thorax.
b.) Calmly move away.
c.) Squish it while shouting, “Prepare to meet your maker, motherfucker.”
d.) Scream like a banshee and jump up onto a table.
The idea of going without makeup for 48 hours makes me feel…
a.) Curious…what is this makeup of which you speak?
b.) Slightly uncomfortable.
c.) Motivated to finish sewing a suit made from human hides.
d.) Naked and afraid.
I would rather _______________ than sleep on the ground.
a.) sleep in a tent
b.) sleep in a 5 star hotel
c.) do what the voices tell me
d.) lick a subway hand-rail
A morning away from my Keurig is…
a.) Huh? What’s a Keurig?
b.) Fine, as long as someone brings some instant Folgers or Diet Coke.
c.) Who? Never heard of her. But I once cut a bitch for touching my cheese danish, if you know what I mean.
d.) Out of the question.
Eating eggs that have been scrambled and boiled in a plastic baggie sounds:
a.) Exciting! What a cool idea! How can I help?
b.) Like a logistical nightmare. Can’t we just do a continental breakfast…like some cheese danish or something?
c.) Weak and submissive. Shouldn’t we have to hunt and kill our own food?
d.) Dangerous. Are the baggies BPA-free?
I can poop…
a.) Anywhere, anytime…in fact I’m pooping right now.
b.) Almost anywhere, but I prefer my own toilet.
c.) Because pooping is fun…and a great art medium when you’re in solitary confinement. I like you.
d.) Shut your filthy mouth, harlot. My bowel habits are none of your beeswax.
I can go without alcohol…
a.) Forever! Fresh air and stars are my happy juice.
b.) If I have to, but not for more than 48 hours. Do Jello shots count?
c.) As long as I have bath salts and/or horse tranquilizers.
d.) All morning, but then I’ll be serving Mojitos and shots of Buttery Nipples out of the trunk of my car.
Alrighty then, let’s see how you did…
If you picked mostly:
a.) You are a natural. Go! You’ll have a blast.
b.) Go ahead, but make sure there are some very experienced campers going too.
c.) Does the asylum know you’ve escaped?
d.) You will die a violent death on a camp-out, especially with other people’s kids. Definitely stay home and let your spouse do the heavy-lifting on this one.
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