(Every few months or so, our troop has to clean out and organize the trailer containing our camp supplies. Some poison ivy has started growing at the back of the trailer, but it’s out of the way.)

Friend: “I’m gonna try and clear out that poison ivy.”

Scoutmaster: “You don’t need to do that. It’s out of the way, and it’s best to have a professional deal with it.”

Me: “Yeah, and you don’t want to end up catching poison ivy… again!”

Friend: “I have gloves and clippers. I’m not gonna touch it.”

Scoutmaster: “That doesn’t matter. You can still catch it if it gets on your clothes.”

Friend: “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

(Whenever he gets his mind set on things like this, it’s almost impossible to try and talk him out of it.)

Me: *sigh* “Your funeral.”

(He managed to clear out the poison ivy, while I tried to stay away from him. After we’re back home, I noticed I’m starting to breakout. I called him up to yell at him only for his mother to inform me that he was far worse. He ended up missing school for a couple of days because it got all over his face, causing his eyes to swell shut.)

(Even though my kids are older now, I still volunteer as a cub scout leader, because I enjoy it. Normally, I am at the meeting a half hour early, with everything all set up. This day my train was delayed by an hour getting home from work, so I was 10 minutes late for the meeting. I went straight to the meeting after quickly grabbing my materials, and was still dressed in my nice office clothes rather than my uniform.)

Me: “Boys, I am sorry I’m late. My train was delayed because the police had to arrest a bad guy.”

Scout: “Why were you on the train?”

Me: “I was coming home from work. That’s why I’m dressed in my professor clothes, not my uniform.”

Scout: *looking really confused* “But, wait… I thought THIS was your job!”

(He was totally adorable, but looked slightly disappointed that Scout Leader wasn’t the only thing I do. The cuteness – that’s why I lead!)

(After Pokémon Go is released, my little brother, an assistant Scoutmaster, is excited to go on a hike with the Boy Scouts. After he starts the hike, my dad and I drive his car to the finish point, but we pass by the group. I see my brother with his phone out, so I roll down the window.)

Me: “Hey! What did you catch?”

Brother: *smiles* “A goat.”

(Sure enough, one of the Boy Scouts had a full-grown goat by the collar!)

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(I used to volunteer at my local Beaver Scout unit when I was 14, which is a weekly group for children aged 6-8 years. Where I lived in London was not the best of areas, and so a lot of people there are not particularly bright, though most of them are kind and decent people. This exchange happens with a six-year-old who is white, with blonde hair and blue eyes.)

Me: “Okay, [Kid], we’re finishing up the activity now, so if you could stick your painting on the step to dry and help tidy up that would be great.”

Kid: “No! I’m not finished!” *tries to continue painting*

Me: “You can finish the painting when you get home but we’re finishing up to play a game now.”

Kid: “You’re picking on me! This is unfair! You’re only saying that because I’m black!”

Me: *after staring at him for a second* “Yep… you got it.”

(We’re reminiscing about our last family camping trip, talking about when my younger brother freaked out because my older brother was bouncing an axe, but not close enough to anyone to hurt them.)

Younger Brother: “I’m a Boy Scout; of course I freaked out. That’s the complete opposite of safety procedure. You don’t walk around swinging an axe like an idiot. You carefully put it in the sheath –” *grins* “–and THEN swing it around like an idiot!”

Me: “That way you can bludgeon people instead of just cutting them.”

Younger Brother: *solemnly* “The Boy Scout way.”

This story is part of our Boy Scout roundup!

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