Women Who Run With

(scene opens in tent in dead of night, distant-but-not-distant enough howling starts up)

Leader 1: That’s legit, right? That’s the real thing we’re hearing?

Me: (thoughtfully) As opposed to the dudebros we heard earlier? Yeah, I think so.

(Yipping and howling continues for a moment before going silent)

Leader 2: I think we’ll be okay. It sounds down in the valley and we’re higher up.

(Silence continues a bit longer. Then screaming carnage breaks out in a completely different spot from the first howling.)

Me: What the f– was that?

Leader 2: I think they caught something.

Leader 1: Are we concerned with our survival?

Me: (considers) Not yet.

Leader 1: Not yet?!

Me: (philosophically) Well, if they caught something, they’re not coming up here looking for something to eat.

Leader 2: And they’re further down in the valley now.

Leader 1: What time is it?

Me: (checks watch) Midnight. We have five-ish hours to sunrise.

Leader 1: This is going to be a long five hours.

Me: There’s a fun-patch for this, right?

(three leaders suppress hysterical late-night stress giggles, fade to black)

Collecting them all.

(scene opens in early morning tent, three scout leaders contemplating life)

Me: (scratches stomach. Stops. Swears) Goddamnit. Where’s the first aid kit?

Leader 1: In my pack. Why?

Me: Tick.

Leader 1: Already? We’ve not even been here a whole day.

Me: (sighs) Yeah.

(flailing around tent, first aid kid found, tick removed)

Me: Goddamnit.

Leader 2: Now what?

Me: Lone Star Tick.

Leader 1: So?

Me: That’s the one that makes you allergic to red meat. Because F Texas in particular.

Leader 1: What?!

Leader 2: Man, Carrot. Having a rough week there. First rabies shots, then Shingles, and now maybe becoming allergic to red meat.

Me: (resignedly) If I get out of here never able to eat another steak, I might have to quit Girl Scouts. Just saying.

Lighter Fluid

Husbandly Text: Did you guys get there okay?

My Text: Yeah. Girls setting up tents now.

My Text: By the way.

My Text: One match. You tell Scoutmaster “Do you need Girl Scout Water for that fire?” to suck it.

Husbandly text: Nice. Beta says “You used a match?”

My Text: Ms. C texted me earlier to say she’s looking for Teen Boy Lawn Care. Tell Mr. Sassomancer that his free time this weekend is now spoken for.

Setting mood and theme.

(scene opens in small kitchen. Platters of frozen ingredients thawing: everything from meat to mulberries. Kitchen aid-mixer running.)

Me: (muttering to self) Bread going, where are the peppers?

(Carrot take down small red glass jar, holding five small red pepper. Carefully shakes one out, begins to de-seed. Crumbles to near dust in her hands.)

Me: Damnit, they’re too old. I can’t use these.

(Pepper flakes re-bottled, Carrot turns back to mixer, tests dough with finger.)

Me: Damnit, too watery and I’m out of flour.

(Carrot absently licks fingers. Freezes. Surprised look on her face.

Me: Oh. They’re not too old.

(Carrot claps hand over her mouth, begins hunting for coffee mug, downs it)

Alpha: (Watching. Points.) Ha. Ha.

Me: (blinks rapidly) Legit.

Wild Frontier

(scene opens in dinning room, half recovered from Thanksgiving, Carrot at table still in bathrobe)

Gamma: Can I have bread?

Delta: Can I have cookies?

Beta: I’m just going to have another one of these sugared cranberries. Is that okay?

Alpha: Why is Gamma having bread? Did you say that was okay?

Me: (suffering, trying to write, hands over headphones that are clearly not loud enough) Oh. My. God. Please. Go. Eat. There is food everywhere. None of you are young enough that I have to be involved in the feeding of you. Scavenge. Forage. Whatever. I don’t care. There are no rules any more. It is a lawless time –

Alpha: (alarmed) No! Please! There have to be rules! Please make some rules!

Me: (stares, starts to laugh)

Alpha: (defensively) If you don’t make rules there will be chaos.

Carrot’s Inner Voice: I’m sorry, do I know you?

Me: (moar laughter, some tears)

Though she be but little…

(scene opens in post holiday dining room)

(Husband and Carrot existing)

Gamma: (hotly) You know what mom? I want cranberry sauce. And I want it now!

Me: (sigh) Sure. Go ahead. Why are you so angry?

Gamma: (savagely) Because I like it!

Husband: (faint laughter) God help her first boyfriend.

Me: (resigned) It’ll probably be for the best.

Scale Appropriately

(scene starts in bedroom, Carrot knee deep in girl toys)

Me: (sorting, cleaning, organized)

(off screen the shouts and yells of boys)

Me: (sighs, extracts self, goes downstairs)

(scene begins in kitchen, moderately clean)

Delta: (wailing in toddler)

Alpha: (throwing up hands) That’s it! I’m done! I’m done! No more!

Beta: (sees disapproving Carrot in the doorway) Delta gets upset because the show ends and he wants another one.

Alpha: (outraged) And he doesn’t tell me what he wants, he just cries for what he wants! We already showed him out to use the remote!

Me: (sighs, rubs forehead) He’s four, guys. He needs help using the remote for a smart TV. That’s a little above his pay grade.

Beta: (indignant) He can do lots of things above his pay grade. He should be able to use a smart remote!

Me: (with salt) Almost like how, as teenagers, you should be able to brush your teeth twice a day without me yelling at you, yet for some reason that seems to be way beyond your pay grade.

(camera cuts to three way stare down)

Alpha: (sighs, takes Delta’s hand, head to tv room) I’ll fix it for you, Delta.

Me: (silent and strategic retreat)

No Hope for Our Future

(scene opens in moderately clean kitchen)

Me: (enters, sees two boys wrestling at the counter) What are you doing?

(they part to reveal a Chef Boyardee can, mangled by can opener)

Me: (stares at them, stares at can)
Them: (stare back)
Me: (cautiously approaches the can, lays a finger on the pull tab) Do you not know what this is?
Beta: No.
Me: (stares out the window, deep breath, pops tab, pulls back lid)
Them: (stare)
Me: (infinite gentleness) Alpha, did you not open yours this way?
Alpha: …No. (leaves room)
Beta: I apologize for my being an imbecile.
Me: (sadly) I love you.

Know a Thing

(scene opens in cluttered basement)

Me: (standing amid several baskets of clean laundry, folding) Alpha, you remember you’re cooking dinner tonight for you merit badge?
Alpha: (On stairs) Yeah. I wish dad was here. To make sure I’m not going to blow up the house.
Me: (frowning) I know how to work the grill, son.
Alpha: (surprised) Really? You know how to grill?
Me: Of course. Believe it or not, I’m a fully actualized adult with an interesting back story and a wide range of useful skills.
Alpha: Do you know how to kill a cow?
Me: In theory. I haven’t had a chance to play test that.

Know your limitations

(scene opens in tossed kitchen, two parents, dressed for cold, enter from two different doors)

Husband: (looks wife up and down in question)
Me: (towing smalls, removing coats) Parent Track meeting. Ended up being earlier than I thought.
Beta: (enter from third door, panicked, waving arms) Where have you been! No one was home! I was worried! (throws himself into mother’s arms)
Me: (amusedly perplexed) I’m sorry, honey. I would have left a note, but I didn’t think of it. I thought you’d come in, see no one was here and make yourself a snack and play video games.
Beta: (hotly) I didn’t know where anyone was! I had to be responsible!
Me: But you only had to look after yourself.
Beta: Exactly! I can’t take care of myself! You know this! How could you do this to me? (stomps off to the basement)

Survival Skills

(scene opens in cluttered kitchen, close up on thermometer reads -30 outside, 50 inside)

Me: (in multiple laters, stocking cap, fingerless gloves, pouring coffee into thermal travel mug)
Gamma: Mom, can I have my water bottle?
Me: (concentrating on the hot) Sure, go ahead and get it.
Gamma: (puts it under dripping-to-prevent-freezing faucet)
Me: Here, let me help. (fills it)
Gamma: Not too much!
Me: (hands it back) Why not? Wait, what are you doing?
Gamma: (takes to ice maker, stuffs full of ice) I’m a master of surviving and preventing heat stroke. (said proudly)
Me: (sighs and nods approvingly) Good job.