Why One Should Never Miss Meetings

By Ann McBride <Aerm1@aol.com>

Rated: G

Submitted: November 2001

Summary: Clark comes home to tell Lois about a meeting she missed.


"You did what?!" Lois's horrified shriek reverberated through the kitchen as she stared at her husband. Only a burst of superspeed on his part kept the china platter she had been transferring from the sink to the drain basket from shattering into a thousand pieces on the floor as it slipped through her frozen fingers.

Clark shook his head, puzzled at her reaction. "I signed you up to be…"

"Emmy's Girl Scout troop leader! How could you do that to me?" Lois ranted.

"But you said you were a Girl Scout when you were a kid. I thought you'd want to be involved. I thought you asked me to take Emmy to the sign-up meeting because you had to work late." Clark was completely baffled. All he'd done was try to make his daughter and his wife happy. He shook his head slowly, a hurt look in his brown eyes.

"Clark, I did ask you to take her and sign her up. I did *not* ask you to sign *me* up." Lois let out an exasperated sigh. "Clark, you have no idea what you have done to me."

He stared at his lovely wife who was now pacing angrily around the island in the center of the kitchen. For the life of him, Clark honestly couldn't understand what he'd done wrong. "Honey, it's just Daisy Scouts. And I didn't volunteer you to be the troop leader. I put you down for assistant leader. Trust me, it won't be that bad."

Lois stopped pacing and grabbed a sponge from the sink. As she began to scrub angrily at the stove, she ground out, "It will be that bad. Do you have any idea what Daisy Scouts do?" She took a deep breath and continued, "And assistant leader! Clark, that means that I have to do what someone else wants to do! I'll just be there to fetch and carry and keep the kids from killing each other or destroying the meeting room." She scrubbed harder at the spotless cooktop. "I cannot believe you did this to me."

Clark shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "Lois, honestly, if I'd known you'd be upset, I'd never have signed you up. But I really did think you'd enjoy it."

"What?! You thought I'd enjoy being locked in a room with ten to fifteen five-year-old girls, all of whom want to be the center of attention?"

"Well, you enjoy being with Emmy. You're a great mother."

Lois grimaced again. "Mother. That's the key there, Clark. I am *Emmy's* mother. I enjoy being with her because she is our child. It's not the same thing at all."

"All right. Point taken." Clark tried valiantly to change the focus of the conversation. "As for what they do, they do crafts, and cooking projects, and…"

"Girl stuff. Clark, think about it. Can you really see me teaching kindergartners to do crafts, or cook, or anything else like that?"

"They sing songs too," he added, a hopeful expression on his handsome face. "And it will be a good opportunity to get to know some of Emmy's friends' parents. They said that at least one other parent had to come to every meeting to help out."

Lois snorted. "If you think it's going to be so much fun, why didn't you sign yourself up? You'd be much better at it anyway. *You* can cook."

"Honey, you know I can't commit to something like that. What if I heard a cry for help in the middle of a meeting?" He shook his head again.

"Did you sign me up to be cookie chairman too?" she spat out.

"No, sweetheart. Daisy Scouts don't sell cookies. They're too little."

Lois stopped in her tracks and fixed him with a basilisk stare. "Whatever possessed you to think that I have the time to do this? Hmm? As you have pointed out, *you* don't, because of Superman. We do have another child, you know. What am I supposed to do with Jon during the meetings? It's not like I can be sure you can watch him."

"I know. But Jon is only three. He doesn't need a scout leader. Can't you just take him to the meetings?"

"And let him get into whatever the girls are doing? No way." Lois slapped the sponge down in the sink. "Clark, this is not going to work. It will be terrible. I don't have the time, and neither do you."

Her husband flashed a grin at her. "Lois, it really won't be that bad. It's only an hour a week."