Racing Cabbages

Daisy's Girl Scout troop was full of  first-borns. Nearly all of them wanted to lead; few cared to be led. And they were very competitive. All of which explains the cabbage races. Around St. Patrick's Day, grocery stores almost give away cabbage, and cheap fits the troop budget. When the girls were five- and six-year-old kindergarteners, I bought about eight cabbage heads, divided the girls into teams and set them loose to roll cabbages from one basement wall to the other. Leaves fell as heads rolled. Matter of fact, the cabbages took a beating that day. No one wanted a slow cabbage. When the races were over, the girls picked up the leaves--another race to see which team could pick up the most leaves, the fastest. It was cute and killed a lot of time. The cabbage races were even more cute seven years later on a summer day. My blossoming, yet still bossy, 13-year-olds gathered at the neighborhood pool to say goodbye to one of my loudest bossy ones. They split into teams and, clad in swimsuits, rolled cabbage heads alongside and into the neighborhood pool. Again, the cabbages took a beating. If the girls hadn't been so competitive, I don't know that they would have set aside their teenage dignity for cabbage races, in public. And I don't know that I would have had as much fun leading them.