Can my faith in humanity be restored?

Probably not, judging by the Open House at the Elementary School last night.

I, as the Girl Scout representative, was in rare form. With a massive headache, two hours of sleep and a mere 800 ounces of Diet Pepsi to sustain me, I plowed into the school with the determination of an ugly guy with a Camaro trying to get with a fat chick.

Immediately, I saw my only neighbor who seems like a decent human being. So that was good. Sadly, five minutes after that I saw my neighbor who likes to stand in the street and scream at me what a fat ass I am. Thankfully, he arrived at the Open House sober, but still. I don't want to hang out with him.

I arranged all my paperwork on the table that the school thoughtfully provided me. Then I put out five bags of candy, all over the table. So people would actually want to talk to me.

Shortly after we arrived the whole place was flooded with people. Boy Child thoughtfully decided to comment to me, in a voice that could only be heard by people throughout the entire school and possibly the next county,

"Mom! Why do all the other mother's have gang tattoo's?"

I really wanted to say, "I know! Right?" but they really DID have gang tattoo's and I was afraid they would cut me. I'm not talking nice flowers or hearts or tribal bands or anything remotely pretty. I'm talking, D E A T H written across the fingers and teardrops under their eyelids and those bleeding hearts with big butcher knives stuck in them. They looked at me with hate in their eyes and I was all like, "No! Those are...lady tattoos!"

Yeah. Okay.

Most people were really nice. I talked to a lot of people and gave away all my candy. I got twelve girls to sign up as being interested and two mom's who wanted to sign up to be leaders.

I also got one mom who asked, loudly, "Don't the Girl Scouts molest children?"

No, I'm serious. She really asked that.

I said, "Um, no. If that's what you're looking for you might try another group."

You guys would have been SO proud of me! Because, seriously? I think people say stupid inflammatory crap like that just to get a rise out of others. And I don't need that. Oh no.

She looked flummoxed and then quickly said that she thought she'd "seen it on the t.v. this one time" and then she walked away.

Score one for me!

The absolute best part of the night was when a little girl came over to our table to talk with Boy Child.

The girl reminded me so much of my beloved friend Badgergirl. She was tall and willowy and pretty in a very natural way. She had the little glasses and her hair was in a ponytail. The ponytail holder? Was striped.

There was something about her. I don't know. She was adorable. She looked smart and funny. She looked like the type of kid that I would love to be friends with Boy Child.

And she shrieked, as fifth grade girls do, "Boy Child!"

And ran over.

And HIGH-FIVED HIM.

THEN, SHE STARTED TALKING ABOUT SCIENCE.

I was in awe. I was in love. I was like, "Boy Child? Could you please marry this girl so I can be around her forever? Because she seems like someone I would like."

Boy Child, as is typical, rolled his eyes and said, "I can't marry her mom. I'm only nine years old!"

Girl Child, who was listening but not commenting much up to that point said, "He's never even experienced life to the fullest mom! He can't get married."

Fair enough.

THEN, the little girl's mother came over and I swear to you, she looked JUST LIKE LIZARITA!

I was like, "You look JUST LIKE my friend Elizabeth!"

And she said, and no, I'm not kidding, "People tell me that all the time."

Liz, even though we don't live in the same town, you are totally famous! FAMOUS!

The Liz-lady was SO NICE. I was so glad I got to talk to some people who are nice and friendly and normal and decent and whatnot.

Overall, it was a good night.

Is it okay if I still hate a lot of people though? I hope so.