#veganzombie

I don’t understand the motivation of parents who strap their kid with a food name. Yelling “Apple!” (ahem, Gwyneth) anywhere besides a farmer’s would probably just make everyone else on the street duck for cover from rogue/falling fruit. It’s also a scientific fact if your kid has a food name, the probability that he’s a whiny, snotty little hellion increases, a billion fold. Case in point: Bibi Souffle, gangly 3rd grader, Forest Scout troop leader 4 years running, tent designer, expert tracker, and a giant thorn in everyone’s side. 

Field sketch of Miss Souffle. ^^^

Vee and Bibi are sort of long-standing troop nemeses (as close as little girls learning cursive can get to being mortal enemies), so Edgar and I knew we were in for a real treat of a weekend when we volunteered awhile ago to chaperone a troop camping trip. There was serious Forest Flair at stake, and access to open flame. I’m a good roomie/bestie. I wanted to help Vee win some scout points. So Edgar, his dumb bird Wes, Vee, a gaggle of 2nd and third grade girls, and me, all powered through a weekend of Bibi touting her trout fishing skills, insisting she roasting everyone’s marshmallows because she was the only one who could do it correctly, and screaming like crazy whenever Wes tried to perch himself on her head (maybe just like, 3 times). Surprisingly, we all got out of the woods unharmed that weekend. Unless you count a splinter in a thumb from an unfortunate fort-building debacle. All good, though.

NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTIONS FOR A PROCRASTINATING OBSERVER OF NATURE:

1. Write in journal more than once every 4 months.

2. Diagram at least one chipmunk (how do they exiiiiiiist???)

3. Saturday jogs in Patterson Park with Vee. If Zombie Run, move to next day. Or, go to Curves.

4. Stop binging on Numb3rs. Easy. Only one season left.

5. Sailing lessons-- become world’s first undead pirate naturalist.