Flag Football

I've never thought of myself as a particularly girly girl, but today at cub scouts I felt a lot like, well, a girl.  Today's main event was flag football.  (Yay for belt loops!)  I merely observed while our den chief (an older scout who helps out with a cub scout den) led the activity.  All of these eight-year-old boys could throw a football waaay better than I can.  (Somebody told me once that the football throwing technique that I have so masterfully perfected is known as the "wounded duck.")  The boys ran around like crazy doing all sorts of things that didn't make any sense to me, and if they got into an argument over a play, the den chief would declare a verdict based on [insert technical football term here].  Then everybody would say something like, "oh, yeah, of course," and I didn't have any idea what course it was a matter of.  Terms that I have heard before, but have never quite grasped the meaning of, (like "line of scrimmage" and "off sides") were flying around and everyone seemed to comprehend them except me.  (The other female leader was doing something else.)  Granted, some of the boys might have been pretending to know a little more than they did to impress their friends, but for heaven's sake, they're third graders.  How do they know so much more about something than I do?

On a related-enough-that-I-am-justifying-including-it-in-the-same-post note, somebody really needs to teach those boys My Country 'Tis of Thee or something because every week, regardless of who is called on to choose a patriotic song, we always sing The Star Spangled Banner.  This is, of course, a wonderful song, but when you have an eight-year-old boy with little to no foresight choosing the starting note, the "rockets' red glare" section is awfully high, and I'm no soprano to begin with.  (I tried singing the alto part once and the whole thing fell apart.  I've been too scared to try it again.)  Ah, cub scouts.  :)