Differences

I have a child involved in the girls' program in my church, and a child involved in the boys' program in my church.

The girls' program is headed by women; the boys' program is headed by men.

And that's all I'm saying.

Whenever the girls have an activity, I get an email about a week ahead of time.  It has a special format.  It outlines exactly what the activity is going to be, where, and when.  Even how long it should take and whether the girls should bring anything with them.

And the email announcement is pink.

When the boys have an activity. . .not so much.

The other day, my son told me that he had to go over to the church at 9:00 a.m. on a Saturday.

"What for?" I asked.  As if it were, you know, my business.

There was an activity.

"What?"

He didn't know, but he was supposed to meet there to go somewhere else.  All he knew was it was going to involve building farm animal pens or something.

I assumed that might be kind of far away, seeing as we live right smack dab in the biggest city in the state.

"Where are you going for that?"

He didn't know.  "It's to help someone with a special project."

"Who?"

He didn't know that, either.  "I think you'll get an email," he offered.

Saturday morning came. When I breezed in from my run, some twins had been sent to collect my son for this activity.

I still had not had an email.

I hurried through my shower and went over to the church with my son.  Walking into the building, I saw a lot of kids and some adults standing around.  Choir practice was happening, and I couldn't tell for sure who was who.  Besides, some of the men's identities were not so apparent to me from under their baseball caps and unshaven faces.

"Who's in charge of this activity?" I asked, somewhat brightly, I hoped.

They all kind of looked at each other.  I did not take that as a good sign.

"I'm sorry," I said.  "I just need a little more information than he's going I-don't-know-where to help I-don't-know-who with I-don't-know-what and I don't know what time I'll be home."

I was half-joking, but I sensed immediately that I had crossed a line.  It was very clear that I was not a cool, unshaven, capped man hanging out not being uptight about details.

"You got an email," one of the men said.

I had to differ with him.

He insisted that a man who wasn't there had texted everyone.

Except, apparently, me.

I was fast becoming less and less cool.

Even though I asked the question, I still left without much more detail.  I got the name of the kid they were helping, but everything else remained vague.  However, one of the men did say that he would be with my son at the activity from beginning to end.  And I was told that, yeah, he would probably be home before 2:00 when I needed him.

I decided that was enough BECAUSE--I knew that man's wife.  And I knew that if I called her if there were a problem, she would be helpful.

After my son was back home, I was amused to hear my daughter ask him about this new kid.  "We have a new boy in church?  How did I not know that?"

"I don't know."

"Well, what does he look like?"

"He's sort of taller than me and blond."  I could hear the shrug in his voice.

"How tall?"  She asked several questions about how tall and what his face looked like that my poor son was completely stymied about.

"I just can't believe there's a boy that I didn't see!" she mused.  She actually went on and on.  Her brother seemed completely taken aback to have a conversation with her about another of the boys, and to have no clue about why she would care what he looked like, and why his particular brand of blond or tallness would be any different from anyone else's.

Ah, boys and girls; girls and boys.  The differences never end.