My Girl Scouts Are So Blessed to Have Me

Last night, I hosted my Girl Scout troop’s Talent Show at our house. I had eight little 4th grade girls over, along with their parents and siblings – all gathered to watch our future rock stars/musicians/artists/dancers/soccer stars show off their incredible talents.

After the show, I had cookies set out (duh – we’re Girl Scouts, after all) and I invited everyone to walk through the new house and see all of the remodeling we’ve done.

A little later, I’m in the kitchen, talking with several of the parents, when suddenly, several of the little Scouts come running up to me, all breathless & excited.

“Mrs. Drama Queen! Mrs. Drama Queen! Your daughter’s hurt! She’s crying!”

I went tearing down the stairs, expecting to find my daughter’s brains or bones or blood sprawled or oozing everywhere. As a parent, don’t you hate that? That nanosecond of time between hearing about the injury and actually seeing the injury??? Your heart’s racing, your brain is racing – and worse - your imagination is racing.

I find my dear daughter crying, curled up on the floor in a fetal position, and complaining of the incredible pain... in her tooth. Yes, her tooth. She had hurt her tooth. No brains. No broken bones. No oozing blood. Just….a tooth.

Want to hear how? Sure you do. Because my dear readers know – if I’m posting it – it has to be something good. Or something incredibly funny. Or insanely weird.

So - here's what happened. My daughter was leaning over the foosball table – leaning "way, way" over the table – “to get a closer look at the ball” during an intense game between the kids.

Yeah, you see where this is going, don't you? Well, of course – another kid “spun” the little foosball men – and one of the little men smacked daughter on her tooth. It didn’t break it – or crack it – but it hit the tooth pretty hard. No cracks - no chips - just a glancing blow on the tooth.

I, being the wise and wonderful Girl Scout leader that I am, used it as a teaching moment for my little Scouts. I gathered them all up close and said, very seriously, “This, Scouts, is a good lesson – never put your face down really, really close in a foosball table...especially when a game is going on."

They all looked solemnly at me – and then glanced over at my daughter with pained looks on their faces – nodded, and said, “Yes, Mrs. Drama Queen. Now we know the consequences.”

See – always a teachable moment. That’s what separates the good Girl Scout Leaders from the GREAT Girl Scout Leaders. If there's a badge for "Safe Foosball Play" - we'd be all over it.

Ahem.

Peace.