This Is Where A Sense Of Humor Would Come In Handy

A long time ago, I mentioned how great it was that the boys' Scout troop has an annual mulch sale as its fundraiser.  Unlike with cookies, say, or gift wrap, dads are willing to get their hands dirty with the mulch thing, leaving us moms/wives to our leisure as they spend the weekend loading trucks, unloading trucks, corralling not very motivated boys into lifting 25-pound bags of landscape cover, etc.

Maybe wearing a frilly apron would make me feel better

One would wonder, then, how I managed to be drafted last June into the role of Troop Hospitality Coordinator - a role which includes, among other things, making sure that these hardworking men and boys are fed well and often during delivery weekend.  Was it temporary insanity that made me agree to take on the job?  Was it the assumption (tragically false, as it turns out) that the mulch sale always occurs in April -- that is, after my yearly 31 March contract deadline?  Or maybe I thought, as I stood there in the rain and the cold last year while dropping off a platter of grapes and string cheese and pitying those poor women hunched over the campstoves trying to heat up the food, that the weather couldn't possibly be that bad again.  I mean, what were the odds?

What were the odds, indeed.  You can find me this extremely rainy Saturday attempting to heat up donated chili and macaroni w/cheese over pots of boiling water on camping stoves, while praying the wind doesn't expose me to the elements by blowing the food tent over.  I'm not sure if that is irony, or simply cosmic payback.  Either way, I'm not liking it much.

[Woman cooking image: Zuuzs]