In this, my final installment of the Camping With the Brownies series, you will see the humiliations I suffered and also how I exacted the perfect revenge.
Okay, well, humiliations might be a strong word. The women leading the troop were control freaks. (Is there a nice way to say that?) On top of that, I didn’t know any of them very well and they felt comfortable being very patronizing to me. For example, one of them felt the need to show me the “best way” to wipe the table. Wow. I’m thirty-awesome years old, lady. I think I know how to wipe a freakin’ table! Countless times I was shown how to do something I was already doing the “right way.” Or they would tell me to have the troop do something and as I’m explaining to the girls what to do, the leaders would swarm me and change it all. Oh, my. Really? Is there more than one way to line up and throw away trash? Apparently so.
I handled all that graciously. I don’t know these ladies and they don’t know me. But there was one point I couldn’t let go. These ladies were super, ultra organized. Like, they knew whose spatula was whose, who owned the silver tongs, which skillet belonged in which tub. Those white paper towels? Yeah, those are mine. Those other white paper towels? Yeah, those are hers. What about this pot holder? Oh, yeah, that goes in my tub, but wait a sec. There should be two. Where’s the other potholder? WHERE’S THE OTHER POTHOLDER? Where’stheotherfreakingpotholder? (picture a woman frantically searching a picnic shelter frantically and anxiously while repeating this louder and louder) (picture me, holding one potholder, desperately wanting to laugh, then realizing this woman is seriously freaking out and then I got a little scared as I wondered what might happen if she DIDN’T FIND IT?!)
One of the girls in the troop lost her little beads off a craft we made. She told the troop leader…what? Oh, you want to know if we found the other potholder? Yes. I found it. At the bottom of her camping stuff tub. Because I never took it out when I took the other one out. Because apparently I don’t know that you ALWAYS take them BOTH out together. (deep breath, deep breath) Anyway, this poor girl told the leader that her plastic beads, five Pony beads to be exact, had dropped off her ribbon somewhere on the ground during the course of the day. And guess what? The leader made the girl and the other four girls in her patrol stop what they were doing and search for those beads. Every single bead had to be accounted for!
I understand about littering, I do. But come on, this is really going too far! How could these girls be expected to find these beads?! Argh! I was frustrated. I wanted to tell this leader that she was losing quality time, focusing too much on the letter of the law, not spending enough time looking at the faces of these girls. Oh, the lessons that will be learned with regret!
There were multiple lost items that weekend. Bandanas that HAD TO BE FOUND! More lost beads…what? You want to know if the girls found the beads? Yes, they did. It took 30 minutes and they found all but one. Then I joined the search and found the last one! Seriously, my Finder gift was in full power. I found lost car keys, beads, bandanas, water bottles. But, these ladies were very hard to watch, hard to listen to, hard to believe how uptight they were!
When we got home after this long weekend, I was so exhausted. I was so happy to be queen of my own castle. I was so amazed…to find a purple Sharpie marker in my backpack. How did that get there? Hmm. I know who it probably belongs to. That one lady who passed them out for the girls to use and then she collected and counted them, by quantity and color, twisting the caps tight. Sigh. Well, it’s mine now! Nope, I’m not giving it back. I just wish I could see these women looking for it because you KNOW they will!
They will tear apart their tubs of stuff and every backpack and pocket that went camping. Where is that marker? WHERE IS THAT MARKER? Whereisthatfreakinmarker?!
Oh, it’s just too good! The perfect revenge. Muahahahahaha!