noted

Note to self: Never ask primary children how old they think you are. It's not good for your ego.

P.S. I'm the primary chorister in my ward now. Still doing the cub scout gig as well.

camp

Camp Kiesel. Let's just say I slept really well (last) Wednesday night. Chasing 12 eight and nine year olds around all day in the (Finally!) summer will do that to a person.

POST-EVENT EVALUATION:

Overall, I consider the venture a success. Two cubs were scraped up (knees and elbows) and bleeding within the first ten minutes, we only thought we lost the same cub twice, one cub lost a hat his grandparents brought back from Israel, one cub freaked when he got "out" in dodge ball, oh, and we left 30 minutes late.

BUT-the cubs participated in all the stations (with the exception of one cub who opted out of the canoeing due to a severe fear of water) and I even heard one remark, "This is the best day of my life!" That made it all worth it.

Working on a leather arrowhead with "semi-precious gemstones"

Traversing the "monkey bridge" in the obstacle course

Strategizing before a game of dodge ball

(Yes, you heard me right)

kiesel

I'm at Camp Kiesel with my cubs today. I may not survive the experience. If I don't, I leave my scrapbooking stuff to Allie, my clothes to the needy, and my piggy bank collection to Malan and Jane (I hear they like pigs - see comments). Greg, I leave you all my love and whatever funds you get from hawking my stuff. Kimball, I wish we could have had more time together. I would have changed you from the ugly girl to the hot girl who was actually the ugly girl without her glasses.



Here's hoping no one shoots their eye out!