Question #1: Why do people get so "into" this whole pinewood derby thing?
Last year there were something like 40 races total to determine the winner. 40? Really? When I saw that number up on the whiteboard at the gym I thought, this can't be right. We won't really have to watch 40 races right? Wrong. We had to watch more like 50 because all the leaders and parents and on-lookers who had brought their own cars had to have a chance to race them after the cub scouts had finished! Really.
Question #2: Who is this really for?
Last year the parents spent more time rounding up their cub scouts- who were having more fun flipping coins against the wall at the other end of the gym- to come race their car again. "You wanna see if you win, don't you?" Well, isn't it obvious they don't?
And, as I said before, the parents line up at the end to get a chance to race their own creations. They looked more excited than their children who, after having been drug up to the front for 40 different races, couldn't care less about their parent's cars and just wanted to go home and eat something other than cheap hotdogs and stale chips. I think it's obvious who this is really for.
Question #3: What parent really lets their kid actually do his entire car himself without "aiding" even a little tiny bit?
I didn't think so.
But, all that aside, we are participating again this year. However, my son seems more interested this time than last time. We'll see though when we actually get there and there are only 32 more races to go before the end where the parents get their 10 races each, and the kids are scooting their heads along the gym floor to see who's hair can stand out the furthest with static electricity and whining occasionally about wanting to go home because they're board. And we'll be sure to file down those wheel axles and powder those thingamajigs and align the whatchacallits. Because that's just what you have to do to win, apparently. My poor kid, though. He has two very... shall we say... NON-competetive parents. I couldn't care less about the race, I just want his car to look cool. (And pink, but I couldn't persuade my very masculine son to paint his car pink with white clouds like I wanted. Darn it.)
So, we get to go bask in cub-scout heaven tonight. Wish us luck. And lots of migraine medicine. I'm sure I'll need it. Yay Pinewood Derby!!!!
Last year there were something like 40 races total to determine the winner. 40? Really? When I saw that number up on the whiteboard at the gym I thought, this can't be right. We won't really have to watch 40 races right? Wrong. We had to watch more like 50 because all the leaders and parents and on-lookers who had brought their own cars had to have a chance to race them after the cub scouts had finished! Really.
Question #2: Who is this really for?
Last year the parents spent more time rounding up their cub scouts- who were having more fun flipping coins against the wall at the other end of the gym- to come race their car again. "You wanna see if you win, don't you?" Well, isn't it obvious they don't?
And, as I said before, the parents line up at the end to get a chance to race their own creations. They looked more excited than their children who, after having been drug up to the front for 40 different races, couldn't care less about their parent's cars and just wanted to go home and eat something other than cheap hotdogs and stale chips. I think it's obvious who this is really for.
Question #3: What parent really lets their kid actually do his entire car himself without "aiding" even a little tiny bit?
I didn't think so.
But, all that aside, we are participating again this year. However, my son seems more interested this time than last time. We'll see though when we actually get there and there are only 32 more races to go before the end where the parents get their 10 races each, and the kids are scooting their heads along the gym floor to see who's hair can stand out the furthest with static electricity and whining occasionally about wanting to go home because they're board. And we'll be sure to file down those wheel axles and powder those thingamajigs and align the whatchacallits. Because that's just what you have to do to win, apparently. My poor kid, though. He has two very... shall we say... NON-competetive parents. I couldn't care less about the race, I just want his car to look cool. (And pink, but I couldn't persuade my very masculine son to paint his car pink with white clouds like I wanted. Darn it.)
So, we get to go bask in cub-scout heaven tonight. Wish us luck. And lots of migraine medicine. I'm sure I'll need it. Yay Pinewood Derby!!!!
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