Girl Scouts and Boy Scouts

Katie Rose and Pete are in Girl Scouts and Cub Scouts, respectively. I have been a den leader for Pete’s 2 years in Cub Scouts, and Debbie has been a troop leader for Katie Rose this year and her initial year in Daisy Scouts.

Katie Rose sometimes gets envious of all the fun things Pete is doing–for example, earning belt loops or going on campouts–when her troop was mainly just doing arts and crafts when she was Pete’s age. Debbie and I have agreed that one thing BSA does differently than GSA is Cub Scouts and Boy Scouts organize in packs/troops over multiple ages, whereas Girl Scout troops are smaller groups of girls all about the same age–equivalent to a single den of Cub Scouts. The Cub Scout pack has the advantage of institutional knowledge handed down Webelos->Bears->Wolves->Tigers (i.e., 4th/5th grades -> 3rd -> 2nd -> 1st grade). However, the Junior Girl Scout troops do not formally associate with the Brownies or the Daisy Scouts, so traditions and methods are not being passed along.

Our kids have cousins who are also in Scouts: a girl 3 years older than Katie Rose, a boy Katie Rose’s age, and another boy 10 months younger than Pete, but who made the cutoff so that he is in Pete’s grade. While we were eating dinner with them one night, the Girl Scout with two younger brothers launched defensively into her assessment of the differences: “Boy Scouts teaches you how to survive when your plane crashes in the middle of nowhere, and you only have your Swiss army knife. Girl Scouts teaches you how to survive the other 99.9% of the time.” To which Pete responded excitedly, “We get to have Swiss army knives?!!!”

Pete’s Birthday

Last Friday was Pete’s birthday. We had gotten him a used mountain bike with 24″ wheels for him, which is too big for now but should fit by next summer. It is a Trek, with front suspension and bar extenders, so it looks pretty cool. After coming home from work, I washed the bike while the rest of the family got the house ready for the birthday party. Before the party with his friends, we had Pete open his gifts from us. Inside, and unaware of the bike outside, he opened a 6-pack of “church socks,” a toy NC license plate to put his name on, and a UNC baseball cap. He liked the socks, the license plate was ok, but he loved the hat. He put it on, went to check himself out in the mirror, and came back very happy, smiling a big-toothed, goofy, Pete grin–happy and satisfied with all that he had received.

At that point, I was almost sorry that we were going to raise his expectations by giving him the bike. We walked outside, and he whooped and pumped his fist when he saw the bike. Still, the greater excitement on his part didn’t match the smiling contentment he had with just his UNC cap.