Yesterday we celebrated Annie’s birthday party at Tracy’s parents’ home. Can you believe it that after an ENTIRE WEEK of spending non-stop time with my siblings, I was happy to see them? And I drove, all by myself because guess what? I LIVE ALL BY MYSELF. I’m such a grownup now.
After dinner and before presents, the kids were playing in the living room while the adults were having mature conversations (teasing Grumma about how they all wore red in memory of the recent sadness that is Tiger Woods’ knee). Every now and then, an adult would check on the kids to make sure none of them had gone missing between the couch cushions; one of those adults returned to report that the children had started a club. I never caught the name of the club, but Annie described one of the club’s activities with these words (and I really do quote here because I wrote them down as soon as I heard them): “an occasional chorus of coughing breaks out.”
That’s a good quote from a nine-year old—worth repeating.
AN OCCASIONAL CHORUS OF COUGHING BREAKS OUT.
Most of the kids had picked up a cough from the trip. I didn’t keep track of which kid initially introduced the cough to everyone else, but before long, all of the Campbell cousins could relate via coughing. And so they made a club.
At this point in the story, it’s my privilege to turn all of the attention on me. After all, why else would I have a blog, but to talk ALL ABOUT ME whenever I want and for as long as I want? So let’s talk about Larrie’s clubs for a moment.
Somewhere around the age of eight or nine, I wrote in my journal that I wanted to start a Book of Mormon club. By the tone of my journal (do eight/nine year olds know how to use tone in their writing?) I was ECSTATIC about this club. I was even going to get my friends that weren’t LDS to join. I think I had one, but we were mostly just playground friends because SIX BLOCKS was too far to walk to become backyard friends, too. Sadly, the BoM club never got off of the ground and I never even read the book all the way through on my own for the first time until I was in high school.
Right about now, I’m just wondering if there were other kids like me who were obsessed with making clubs. Anybody? Being the geek that I am, I even had a folder, labeled, “Clubs—All the Best.” Inside, each club had a printed up page about it with a flag. I typed up the pages on our word processor and used the # symbol to create a border for the flags. Then, I drew the flags with my AMAZING ARTISTIC ABILITIES. (That’s my superhero ability, you know.)
Of course I remember most of the clubs included in that folder. The one with the most members was the Treasurers’ Club. We were a little confused with the name because it wasn’t really a CLUB OF A BUNCH OF LITTLE KIDS ASPIRING TO ONE DAY RUN THE US TREASURY. In reality, we were a bunch of kids who wanted to draw maps that led to treasure at the end. Once, the treasure was a small box full of Symphony candy bars. Sometimes the maps were drawn-out representations of the neighborhood with an actual X to mark the spot. Other times, the maps were more clues left at different locations. Pretty intense for a bunch of elementary school kids, eh?
Another club was the SBOTJ Club. This one was the bomb. Seriously. It stood for Stopper Buddies of the Jungle. You can’t beat that—combining soccer with the jungle? (For those who are sadly in the dark about what a stopper is, it’s a position on the soccer field in-between the midfield and sweeper/defense and I played that position in fourth grade.) There were two of us in the club and Puck and I had a handshake, a flag (with a very cool lion holding a baton with a soccer ball on the top), a chant, and a list of rules. Thanks to years of SSRIs, I no longer remember the handshake, even though we tried to document it by taking pictures, some of which were lost, the rest are no longer in the correct order. However, I remember the chant: “Stopper Buddies we are them; boom, boom, goal, yeah!” Coolest club EVER! Oh and to top it off, the rules were even better. I can only remember bits and pieces about most of them, but one I can remember word for word: “Never kill a wild beast; let them bring you food.” I know; you WISH you could have been in that club.
I eventually outgrew my club-making phase—just in time for the dragon-drawing phase. This occurred simultaneously with my cartoon-creation phase and having braces with headgear. I REALLY MISS JR HIGH SCHOOL.