The Butt of Brownie Day Camp

I fancied myself quite the artist when I was little! I loved to draw and a blank piece of paper was the greatest gift I could ever receive. When my mother got a new pair of pantyhose, I was thrilled because they came wrapped around a pristine white piece of cardboard which was perfect to showcase one of my masterpieces! Those were the days when women (actually wore pantyhose) would rinse their pantyhose out at night and hang them over the shower curtain to dry, so that new pair really was a treat! I’m not kidding when I say I was truly an amazing creator of fine art!
Until I went to Brownie Day Camp, that is.
I had been excited about Brownie Day Camp, too! It was held on the shores of splendid Lake Kampeska and was a whole new world of exploration and wonder! For five days each little group had time to spend separately, and then we would meet as a much larger group later in the day. It was at the larger group when we would sing such amazingly meaningful songs as “John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt” and something about making new friends and keeping the old (one is silver and the other is gold). Usually I preferred the scarier songs about baby cradles falling out of trees and Taffy the Welshman, but these new Brownie songs were pretty good!
I believe it was actually on the second day, however, when my dreams of artistic fame and fortune met their embarrassing demise. We were to name our smaller groups and make a sign that would presumably be judged at the end of the week. Our group chose the name “The Cattails”. Well, I thought the name was a little odd, being primarily a dog lover, but I was willing to go for it! I was so ever-lovin’ excited when I saw the gigantic blank poster board, I would have drawn rat tails, if need be!
Now, I happen to think that Sylvester is the prettiest cat there ever was, but apparently the other little girls at Brownie Day Camp thought differently. I drew the most beautiful, fluffy, black cat tail with a white tip you have ever seen in all your natural born days, and all those other little simpletons could come up with were plain, strait brown tails! I didn’t get it! I mean, I understand all cats can’t possibly compare to Sylvester, but there’s got to be at least one little girl who was capable of imagining a pretty calico tail, or even Siamese, for crying out loud, if you’re totally married to plain brown! At least shade the tip a little....

I was pulled from the team and someone had the audacity to draw OVER my beautiful Sylvester tail with one of their godforsaken brown ones.
While I was sulking by myself cursing both silver AND gold friends, I saw the lovely wetland plants for which our little group was named.
Ah ha! Good one, Brownies!