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Rabbiting On About Smoke

, , , | Friendly | January 4, 2016

(I have recently moved and joined a local Boy Scout troop. It is the first morning of a camping trip.)

Scout #1: “Hey, [My Name], do you hate little bunny rabbits?”

Me: “What?”

Scout #1: “You were talking in your sleep last night. You kept saying, ‘I hate little bunny rabbits.'”

Me: “Ohhh. Yeah, in the town I moved, from there’s a running joke that if you say, ‘I hate little bunny rabbits,’ three times, the campfire smoke won’t blow in your face.”

Scout #2: “Maybe I should try that. I’ve moved four times and it keeps following me. I hate little bunny rabbits. I hate little bunny rabbits. I hate little bunny rabbits.”

(The smoke doesn’t move.)

Scout #2: “Oh, well, you know what they say. Smoke follows beauty.”

(At that exact moment, the smoke started blowing in the opposite direction.)


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Politely Decline

, , , , | Right | September 2, 2015

(I am selling homemade fudge to raise money for my Girl Scout Troop. People tend to ignore us, so I need to act excessively cheerful and polite to even get an acknowledgment. As a result, it’s fairly obvious that at least a little of my cheer is feigned, but I’m still our best seller. An old lady walks past our booth on her way into a grocery store and I launch into my usual spiel.)

Me: “Hi! Would you like to help support our Girl Scout Troop on our trip to Sweden? We’re selling delicious homemade fudge!”

(The elderly lady walks past me saying nothing.)

Me: “Have a nice day!”

(This is a totally typical exchange, until the same lady walks back out of the grocery store.)

Me: “Have a great day!”

Lady: *furiously* “You know, I was just about to donate some money on my way out. But you were so absolutely rude that I won’t give you any money.”

Me: *stunned, trying not to stutter or cry* “I… apologize? I’m really sorry; I didn’t realize I said anything rude.”

Lady: “Of course, you did! I can’t believe how hateful you are. I wouldn’t give you any money now even if you were polite!” *stomps away*

(I’m still not sure how she thought I was insulting her. Maybe I was being so polite it wrapped back around and became rudeness, instead!)


This story is part of our Girl Scouts roundup! This is the last story in the roundup, but we have plenty of others you might enjoy!

10 Bizarre And Silly Stories About The Boy Scouts!

 

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Adding Fuel To The Fire

, , , | Friendly | January 27, 2015

(I’m in Boy Scouts, and we go on a campout every month. We have a great patrol, except for one kid who’s an idiot, but we have to let him do some stuff, or he gets mad and we get in trouble. We get up and hook the stove to the propane tank and tell him to check for anything that may leak. He glances at it for a moment and says it’s good. He’s been doing okay this time, so we believe him. I always light the stove. I light the stove and a fireball erupts, and the propane tank bursts into flames.)

Me: “HOLY S***! EVERYONE BACK!”

Idiot: “I got it!”

(He starts filling his tiny cup with water slowly and throwing it on the GAS FIRE.)

All Of Us: “YOU IDIOT, GET AWAY FROM THAT!”

(Soon, a Scoutmaster rushed over, shoved it into the dirt, and kicked mud on it, putting it out. Lesson learned: ALWAYS DOUBLE CHECK, or explode. Your choice.)


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Scouting Around For The Truth

, , , , , | Friendly | October 3, 2014

(I’m a Beavers Scout leader in Canada. Beavers is our youngest section – five- to seven-year-old boys and girls. Our programs are, by necessity, not quite as rugged as those of the older sections, especially in the city. A number of our more “macho” fathers have often complained that Scouting was so much more manly when they were youths. We’ve actually lost a few youths from the program because their fathers decided it wasn’t rugged enough. This particular father has attended nearly every meeting with his son all year long.)

Father: “It’s ridiculous how the lawyers have ruined Scouting. It’s not your fault, I know it’s just policy, but Beavers was way better when I was a kid. We were camping every month, hikes almost every week. Now you just play games and do stupid crafts.”

Me: “I think that you’re likely misremembering your time. Things have changed a bit, of course, but the program standards are still pretty much the same.”

Father: “No, it’s not. We were always out camping and we used to have campfires in the school parking lot every week and we never did any of these stupid crafts or games or songs!”

Me: “Well, if you could have campfires in the parking lot back then, I think that change is more the result of city bylaws and not anything to do with Scouts Canada. As for the rest, it’s pretty common for people to remember the big stuff they did when they were kids and not really remember the more mundane meetings in between. Crafts, games, and songs have always been a part of Beavers.”

Father: “No way. It used to be way better than this; nowadays you just coddle all the kids.”

Me: “Honestly, the program really hasn’t changed that much, other than in the ways society has.”

Father: “What would you know about it? You’re too young to remember what it was like when I was a Beaver, and girls weren’t allowed in back then, anyway! Like I said, I don’t blame you guys; it’s the lawyers’ faults!”

(When he comes to the next week’s meeting, I am ready. As soon as he sits down, I drop a large, heavy binder on the bench next to him.)

Father: “What the h*** is this?”

Me: “Meeting records for the 1979 [Elementary School] Beaver Colony, including attendance records with your name and meeting plans with craft instructions, game rules, and song lyrics. Would you care to point out all the camps in the schedule?”

Father: “Where the h*** did you get this?”

Me: “Dude, who was your Beaver leader? Do you really think our mother ever threw anything away? When I became a leader, she dumped everything on me.”

(For the first time ever, I got to win an argument with a parent, and my brother – the father in this story – doesn’t comment on the program anymore!)


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The Big Cheese Is Immature

, | Friendly | February 7, 2014

(My Scout group and I are coming back from a camp. I am sitting in the second row from the back. Behind me at the back is one of the older Scouts, who is somewhat unpredictable. As it’s hot, the window is open.)

Older Scout: *out the window, at a passer-by* “Cheese!”

Me: “What?”

Older Scout: *at a second passer-by* “Cheese!”

Me: “What are you doing?”

Older Scout: “Shouting cheese.”

Me: “…sure, okay.”

(This continues until we get to a red light and stop. A rather angry-seeming man walks up to the bus.)

Man: “What did you just say to me?”

Older Scout: “…cheese?”

(Apparently satisfied, albeit confused, the man walks off.)

Me: “I think you should stop shouting ‘cheese.'”

Older Scout: “Yeah, probably.”

(The older scout stops looking out the window. A second man walks up. He doesn’t say anything. Rather, he spits in my face and walks away.)

Me: “Ugh!”

Older Scout: “Did that guy just spit at you?!”

Me: “Ew, I think he had chips in his mouth!”

(As far as we could work out, the second guy thought that I’d been the one shouting cheese. Since then, the older scout has stopped shouting things at random people, but it took a while for me to feel clean!)