Sam the Bobcat

So when boys turn eight, apparently they start scouts. I grew up in a house where scouts were tolerated, but certainly not celebrated. I remember hearing things such as "I'm not an Eagle scout and I turned out just fine." In our house you had to defend why you got your Eagle scout (Hi Bryan - I know mom did your project and it is not your fault you are an Eagle) instead of why you didn't.

So, in order to stay true to my upbringing, I told Mike that he is on for scouts, so he helped Sam get his requirements completed for his Bobcat. We are sitting in pack meeting and they ask for a "parent" to come up to get the special pin. Mike and I have this little exchange on the back row about how he should go up since he was helping him and Mike says only the mothers go up and motions up to the front where the rest of the moms are standing. So, I make my way up and lean down to have my special pin ceremoniously placed, when Sam says he wants to pin it on his dad and runs past me to the back of the room where his dad is sitting. I had to slink back to my seat after getting thrown over at Pack Meeting. Nice. I don't think this helped my scout attitude one bit, but it could be the lame jokes and cheers; I will have to get back to you on that one. (Why are you holding that rock by your ear - becuase I'm listening to rock music - hardy har har.)

So, this is a picture of my new Bobcat. If you haven't noticed, Sam is quite somber in his pictures and will never smile for me. If you notice the smirk in this picture, I snapped it after I told him if he didn't smile I would kick him in the nuts. Classy, I know, but it did seem to work.

Also, if you notice his T-shirt, I haven't rushed up to the scout store to get his lovely uniform. Maybe his dad can take care of that as well.

I'm off to work on my attitude. Maybe my sister, Kim, the CUBMASTER, can give me some help with this.