Recently, in a fit of boredom bordering on cabin fever, I decided to volunteer. Tuesday, I have a meeting with a Minister to discuss my becoming of a chaperon for the local youth group.
This is not the first time I have chaperoned a youth group. But I am probably not going to mention all the things I did wrong the last time I volunteered with a youth group. See, the last time I volunteered with a youth group, I made a very critical mistake: I told the truth when they asked me questions.
One of my favorite questions where I answered honestly and just should have kept my damned mouth shut was when one of the girls in the youth group asked me if, when I was younger, did my friends and I have any good theme parties.
And we did. So I told her about them. I told her about the margarita pool party, where we filled a kiddie pool with margarita mix and tequila and charged per plastic cup. Or the time my friend Pam threw a Offensive T-Shirt party, and if you didn't show up in an offensive T-Shirt, you had to put on an offensive name badge, which is how my friend Beth ended up with a name badge "I love the black dick" and I ended up with a badge that said "Abortions Tickle!"
Did I mention it was a Catholic youth group? Well...it was. And the other chaperons were none too pleased with me. But I figured that they would take me more seriously if I just told them the truth, instead of when they asked questions I answered "Jesus doesn't like where you're going with these questions young lady!"
I don't know if honesty will be my best policy in this next youth group. I suppose I could always just hope that no one asks me any damned questions, but considering everyone thinks I look a whole of twenty years old as is, something tells me I am going to get riddled with questions like the kids are firing Uzis.
Either way, I am going to have to curb my language, because I, as you probably have guessed by now, have one helluva swearing problem. Once, on a youth outing, I was driving the youth van and someone cut me off. It would have been bad enough if I had just flipped the guy off, but no, I had to once again be the person who took things too far. I called the guy a "sack full of see you next Tuesdays" only, you know, the actual word. If I do nothing else right with this new youth group, I can only hope I do not scream the C-word at another driver while driving a van with a GIANT CROSS ON THE SIDE OF IT AND WHEN IT'S FULL OF CHILDREN.
Or, you know, maybe I should just volunteer to do some filing for the church. But that wouldn't make for very interesting blogging, now would it?
