Scouting: Redneck Style

Her Highness is a Brownie. I was a Brownie and so was my mom. I remember really digging the times after school when we crafted, sang songs about friendship, snacked and giggled. So, when I learned last fall that there was a troop that she could join, I jumped on the opportunity.

I discovered this particular troop through a mom of a fellow soccer player on HH's team last year and she raved about the troop. She thought the leader was nice and was, overall, pleased with everything that went on. So, because I thought this mom was a nice person, I signed HH up and convinced my neighbor to sign Princess W up, too.

The first meeting was okay. I was alarmed to discover that the leader was a girl I went to high school with and I remembered something about her family living in a school bus. Yes, you did read that correctly. They. Lived. In. A. Bus. Okay, so I brushed that aside, because, hey, my parents weren't exactly model citizens and I don't want to be judged based on their past acts, right? I mean, she was just a kid. So...

The next meeting, another person from my high school turns up. Her name was Wednesday Smith and she was a bit of a hood but since I was trying to be the open-minded mom, I tried to forget that she hung out at the square near my school smoking with all the other scanks. I didn't remind them that we all went to high school together because, uh, my reputation as something of a know-it-all, snob, b. proceeded me, too. So, I am being friendly and nice and then Wednesday turns and smiles at another child sitting near me. She! Had! No! Teeth!

Now, I am only thirty-two. She was a grade ahead of me. This is 2007 (2006, last fall). C'mon, sweetie, ever hear of a dentist??? I had the strongest desire to grab HH and PW and run, not looking back. The girl who used to live in a bus and the woman with no teeth are to be role models for my child? EEEKKK!

Of course, I don't run. How could I? So, I stayed against my better judgment. And it has all been down hill since then.

Some of the highlights- I mean, lowlights:
Our troop was in an annual parade in our small town that celebrates Santa coming to town and the girl were dressed like gingerbread kids. It was not pretty. They looked cute until one of the other moms rubbed foundation for, uh, people of color all over their faces. That made them just look like little dirty-faced poor kids.

We all met at the leader's home to get ready for the parade. She lives in a pretty nice neighborhood; nothing special but nice. That is until her family moved in. They had two cars up on blocks in their drive and a note scotch-taped to the front door telling visitors to remove shoes before entering. Inside was worse. We waited in the basement, which doubled as the master bedroom. There were about 11 kitttens running here, there and pissing everywhere. Trash was heaped on stands, the bed was unmade and laundry covered every surface. Wednesday showed up for this and had car trouble so she was standing in the drive, smoking and swearing about what a day it was. Nice.

Another time, the girls were selling cookies at Wal-Mart and our leader was there in shorts and a tee shirt. In February. She also smoked while the girls tried to peddle their thin mints. Swell.

So, my neighbor and I have been avoiding going to scouts all summer. We duck calls. We ignore messages. We have even found another mother willing to start another troop but first we have to quit the one we're in. Gulp. I'm scared of the redneck Brownie leaders.