Sunday, April 3, 2016


"Come, Kara," my mother says to me. "You're going to join Brownies."

Huh? Join brownies? What is she talking about? You eat brownies. You don't join them.

As I shake my head at my mother, I stupidly follow her to the car without an ounce of bluster or outrage. However, when I reach our destination, I discover....

It is a meeting. With girls from my class. And some lady is talking to us about how we'll have to complete various tasks in order to stay a part of the group.

I have to do work I don't want to do in order to continue with the group....

This group of girls from my class. This group of girls from my class who don't really care about outside activities. This group of girls from my class who could care less about how to drive a go cart.

I stare open-mouthed at what I'm allowing to happen. I mean, I said nothing on the drive over, and my mother managed to slip Big Idea Number 8 in without a single protest from me. What the heck? Had something taken over my mind? Were my reflexes drying out already? Had I lost my fire?

As I ponder this, the lady in charge keeps talking. And talking. And talking.

And then it is time to leave, and we do some kind of chant before we go, and all the other girls seem to love it. And I'm wondering, where are the aliens that have taken over their bodies? And when would they come for me?

But maybe they already have because I didn't voice my opinion on this Big Idea. Not once.

The second we get in the car, I let Mother know what I think. (Apparently, the aliens hadn't gotten me yet.) To which she replies, "You will enjoy this experience and grow from it."

I groan. I moan. I wail.

But it does nothing. I am a Brownie. Gag.

The only shining spot was one of my friends, Shellie, was there. And I liked her. She understood the beauty of outside. And being silly. Maybe it wouldn't be all bad.

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