I know. Scouts are crazy. I should know as this is my 7th year as a scout mistress or leader. After a very long break and six years as a girl scout.
Yet somehow the whole craziness thing seems to have escalated from my girl scout days. Back when Mummy was a boy (which is the Danish expression for a long time ago), nobody dressed up fancy for tournaments and gatherings. Uniform was standard supplemented by whatever would keep you dry, warm, and comfy for the day.
A tournament with a games theme had my scout friends look like that. And while I can’t take the credit for all the costumes I do claim the honours for Browser’s shield and horns. With a painter’s suit, textile paints, rubber foam, dexterity and patience an ordinary woman was a monster for a day. I feel some measure of pride.