We had our last Pathfinder meeting tonight. Only a few of the girls showed up; that was ok. We made memory books and ate too many Skor Bits and talked. I learned that "they" (they being the ambiguous teaching staff at our fair city's schools) were giving out flavoured lubricant to the Grade 8 kids last year in Sex-Ed.

"Was this in your class?" I asked, horrified. (And what on earth does one do with flavoured lube? It can't be used for the traditional kinds of fun unless one wants irritation to result.)

"No, it was a friend's class." Meaning that a friend of a friend told her. Whew.

We made memory books. It's apparently a fun craft when you're 13 and leaving Pathfinders for the summer. Glitter glue and shinny stickers and sparkly pens and cut-up photos and gummy fingerprints from the penny candy, all saying goodbye for the summer.

I'm not going to be back next year as a leader. I have too much other stuff to do (I may be a mild-mannered reporter by day, but I cannot leap over buildings with a single bound). I'm going to miss it, more than I initially realized. Alas.