I don't want to Carry on Camping

Ms Fab and I have to help out at a Brownie camp this weekend. Not that I'm feeling jaded or anything, but let me give you the reasons I don't want to go:

• It's getting cold.
• It's meant to rain hard.
• I spend all week in the company of children - I don't need it at a weekend too.
• I don't eat rubbishy food, especially things like burgers and other minced-up stuff that is provided on Brownie weekends.
• It's on a circus theme, and circuses and pantomimes make my skin crawl.

Yes, I am a miserable kill-joy, but have realised I am not hearty enough to be a Brownie leader. This is not me being old and grumpy. I was young and grumpy as well. Team games were never my thing - I would invent injuries to get out of playing hockey at school. It seems as if, to be a Brownie leader, you need to be into playing bingo, singing songs that don't make sense, and having pointless meetings that run an hour late because everyone's discussing their grandchildren.

I am secretly hoping (well, not so secretly now, but still hoping) that I will get the same telling-off I got two years ago at Brownie camp, but was too much of a wuss to do anything about. One of the ladies in charge of the whole thing made everyone pray and sing a Grace before meals. I didn't join in, because it's not my thing, and I think it's wrong that religion (any religion, other than 'Let's all get on with each other,') is brought into something that is basically a youth club for little girls. The Guiding promise is specifically worded around love for 'my god' to encourage multi-faith and multi-cultural membership. Anyway, I got told off for not joining in. It wasn't a good example to the girls, apparently. So, lying and pretending is a better way to go about it...? This year I imagine the same hearty woman will be about, so bring it on I say. 

Ms Fab is in a similar mind. We don't mind the Wednesday evenings - that's an hour and a half of arty-crafty stuff and enjoying each other's company. The Brownie camp involves splitting up 'our' girls from each other (so they get to know girls they'll never see again), which often results in tears, major wobbles and pleas to go home. They are then made to take part in boring and pointless activities run by scary women. We have outdoor things to do, which involve a ten minute health and safety talk first, but never things that involve risk or excitement. No wonder so many girls go and join the Scouts instead. 

Ms Fab and I have to stay the night, which involves sleeping in a hall with all these hearty females who are alarmingly uninhibited. I am expert at getting changed inside a sleeping bag, and have no wish to have bits of overweight ladies flashed at me. Our shift ends on Sunday morning, when our two colleagues take over from us. 

They better get there early, is all I can say.