Jeffrey’s scout meeting this year has moved from the fairly easy hours of 4-5 pm after-school, to the unearthly after-dinner hour of 7-8 pm. This poses many obvious problems, but since the last thing I desire on earth is to be a scout leader, I go with whatever they tell me with a nod and a smile.
Last night, what that meant was a perfect storm. Abby had just stepped from the bathtub and was wrapped in a pink fairy towel and dripping a puddle onto the kitchen floor. Dinner was finishing up and all the kerfluffle that entails was underway while Jeffrey was searching for his kerchief so his scout uniform would look proper. Bean was getting into the shower, and like all things Bean does, he had to do it Bean style. Which meant, just as dinner was on the table, the phone rang, my cell rang, and Bean grabbed the shower curtain and pulled the whole thing down on his head into a giant crashing wet shrieking kicking tidal wave of a heap in the bathtub.
I got him cleaned up and ten towels down to soak up the tsunami, and then threw everyone in the car to take Jeffrey to scouts. Dinner? Shoved in mouths on our way out the door. In the church parking lot, completely imposing on my visiting teacher’s husband, I asked if he could please please please bring Jeffrey home at 8, because honestly, Abby and Bean were going to be asleep by then. He smiled and nodded at the crazy lady.
Back at home, Bean and Abby were both asleep by 7:30. I had just sat down to begin my homework (an essay arguing secular humanism with Salman Rushdie- my brain hurts) when there was a huge clatter out on my lawn. Peering through the curtains, there were three trucks, a trailer and about a dozen boys in my yard, raking the 12 solid inches of leaves that blanketed my lawn. It was the Deacons, and I could have kissed each and every one of their awesome selves. These were the boys I used to teach for Sunday School, and I honestly love them. It was such a nice surprise.
Jeffrey was summarily dropped in our yard by my visiting teacher, so somehow her husband got her the Crazy Lady’s message, and Jeffrey hopped the fence and helped the Deacons finish up. Sometimes I really love being a Mormon.
Dandelion Mama 
I am glad good things come in the midst of chaos!
I LOVE when the “projects” the YM or TW do actually really HELP someone and are much appreciated. It makes my heart so happy!
Do me a favor. Call his scout leader and let them know you need someone to take him to and from scouts. I KNOW, as a Mormon and a mother, that there are people out there willing to do that for you. Take that one stress out of your life and it will make the evening go so much smoother for you!
And kudos to your Young Men. What a blessing to you!
God bless the deacons! Makes my heart smile to read your post.
I’m with Camille – there is someone in your ward who needs the blessing from taking your son to and from scouts.
Sometimes?
Busted my gaff, Em. 😉
Always.
Bless those little deacons! And Jeffrey too.
Long ago I hated the 7 pm activity time. Not recently though. My life is suddenly less hellish because everything is 7 at the church. It used to be 4 at Sister Scout’s on one side of town. Then rush to Sister Activity on the other side for a 4:15 girls’ thing. Then back to the Scouts for pick up. Then over to pick up the girl. Then to the church at 7. No 6:30 for the YW this week. Then pick up at 8:30–OK maybe 8:45–no one more minute for prayer. The teachers? Oh I think they went over to Brother Carpenters. They’ll be back at 9. No they’re being dropped off. No, pick up at the Carpenters at 8:15. By the time Wednesday was over, I was a raving lunatic. Every single week. Now, I’m just a mild-mannered lunatic. Let’s hear it for improvement.
I agree with Camille and Scarehair. A ride for J would be a blessing all around.