They call me Wise Owl

That’s right, I’m a Brownie Leader. Tah-wit, Tah-wit, Tah-woo! The girls got to vote on names and I became “Stodgy Old Owl” aka “Wise Owl”. I could have been Blueberry Owl so I guess I can’t complain. The past couple of weeks have brought back some memories. I had forgotten 3 principal components of childhood: using popsicle sticks to apply glue, spending a lot of time sitting cross-legged in circles on dirty floors, and a lot of hand holding. They still do a dance around a mushroom (the “Toadstool Toot” as my father used to infuriate me by calling it when I was a Brownie). I can still remember the “Good night” song, or most of it at least. They still have that scarf to tie but they don’t have the little brown dress anymore – it’s now an orange t-shirt with navy or black bottoms. They still have sashes for badges but there’s an optional vest that you can get instead. My first meeting (last week) had 2 moments that shocked me. The first was a parent asking if I’m a parent and the realization that I could be without it being too shocking. The second was how quickly after choosing my name did I become Wise Owl to the girls. It didn’t phase them at all. I was very nervous before both of my meetings so far and it has made me realize, yet again, how rarely we think of adults as “people” when we’re kids. It would never have occurred to me that a leader might be nervous or that they felt anything but joy at being able to help me peel glued down tissue paper off the floor. That or they were mean.