Tonight was C’s second Boy Scout meeting. He requested that I go instead of his dad, and of course I was dying to go so I could get every detail (yes, your going to have to pull me out of his trunk when he goes to prom).
I really love the idea of Scouts. I think they teach a lot of wonderful skills for boys and aid in being self sufficient. It’s an organization built on a solid foundation of morals and values. I’m really hoping Connor shows interest.
Of course, we started the night in an argument. I know in parenting 101 you don’t “argue” with your child, but I always try to reason before I finally get ticked off and just yell. I put us about 15 minutes behind and C. was moving at the pace of a snail (it would take him two hours to be on 60 Minutes). I was yelling up the steps and he was yelling down the steps. ON our way out the door he wanted to wear his new tiger shirt that was gifted to him this week. He had on shiny red basketball shorts and I refused to let him wear his collared shirt with that. He started to cry so I huffed and said “grab some jeans and lets get the heck out of here”.
In the car he got dressed, while I drove. I noticed his new phrase is “What the Juice?” He said it all the way there. I was on my way to the front door when I heard Connor scream, Wait!!! He was still in the van. Hurry Up for Pete Sake!!! He said he couldn’t move because he was stuck. I ran back to the van, he had successfully buttoned his shirt while buckled up. He was buttoned up INTO his seat. By the time I got him out, he looked like the drunk bum version of a scout. His shirt was wrinkled and his collar was up and his scarf 'doo hickie thingie' was up over his neck. He said, “What the Juice?”
I think we had arrived at the biggest church in America. I’m telling you it was a MAZE inside. Somehow we kept climbing steps and ending up in the same place. Connor kept saying, “What the Juice are We Doing Here?” (no camping for me, I was sweating in the air condition). We were really late (I just knew I broke the first scout law punishable by tribe tradition of shaving my head or something) but everyone was really nice and welcoming.
The little Tigers were so cute and sweet. They were drawing things that they enjoyed, and then they all shared what they enjoyed. They mostly enjoyed shooting as sport (I’m guessing that is what they wish was their favorite to be cool). When it was time for Connor to share I was sweating (after all I am a registered democrat) I was afraid he was going to draw something weird like us petting fuzzy bunnies and singing “We are the World”. I did over hear him tell one of the boys that he sales Hot Tubs for $3.00 in his free time- so the whole weird thing was out there. I also heard him say, “What the Juice are you Drawing?” about three times.
What he did share was a drawing of himself in a helicopter shooting in war! He said he enjoys playing war (score one for his dad a registered republican..... I kid, I kid).
Really between me and you last night he refused to eat the hamburger steak I made because he “doesn’t eat cow” but tonight he turns into Rambo.
|You can't go to war without your backup snake.|
Of course, this was the most responsible little gun shooting group, the first rule they wanted to make was “don’t ever shoot anyone in the butt” (hilarious). I was writing the rules down, so I was very impressed with what these young boys came up with. Be Safe. Be Kind. Be Honest. Listen to Each Other. Use Teamwork. Listen to the Leader. Connor’s turn: Make a Rule to Rescue the Tigers (score one for Mom) but still has nothing to do with Den Rules.
The Den Leader is a really great person and very patient with Connor and all the boys. He taught the Tiger sign, pledge, and shake (I think....my mind started wandering). The handshake was way easier than the hand shake I came up with in fifth grade. I made an ALL Girl Group with a very detailed and genius handshake that went to the tune of Enney, Menney Pepsa Denney, Ooooo Whoopp, Bop, Bop, Education, Operation, I LOVE YOU!! Tootle Fruity!! (I need to forward that one to some major scout leader.)
When it was time to talk about helping with chores, Connor shared he helps feed our pet Tiger. Behind the scout leader’s back I gave him one of those squinty, mean eyed, no word, looks that said, “you better get serious before I take you out back and beat the crap out of you right now young man!!!” His dad probably would have played it much cooler and gave him no attention.
At the end of the night, I tried to explain how there is a time to get serious and a time to be funny. For example SON, you don’t say that you feed the pet Lion as a chore if you don’t have a pet Lion. Connor told me he didn’t say he was going to feed the pet Lion, he was going to feed the pet Tiger. There is a huge difference between Tiger and Lion, What the Juice MOM?!?
That is not the POINT SON, name something you do as a CHORE at home. You mean Like Vacuum? No, you never vacuum, but I would have been ok with that lie over feeding the tigers.
On our way out I was stopped twice because I left both my papers and then my cell phone inside. Its the blind leading the blind. Connor did seem excited, enjoyed the other boys, and he can’t wait for the next meeting where he will help both the community and the environment by picking up trash on the walk way.
|Where are the glamping sign ups?|
Tonight I learned Dad is better suited for Scouts. I have a long way to go before I can be a Den Mother, I’m like “What the Juice am I Doing Here?” (but I would rock at inventing a sacred handshake).