Since moving in to our new house Aaron has decided that our boys should become scouts. I wasn't a fan of the idea. I was a girl scout from age 10-12. The uniforms were itchy, they would force us to clean up parks on the weekends, and our leader freaked out when my friend Jessica and I played light as a feather stiff as a board. If I remember correctly, she called us demon worshipers.
Andrew out right refused to become a boy scout. At 12, he realizes that becoming a scout may put an end to any sort of social life he's got going on. He was spared, which is a good thing because scouts are far too optimistic for my cynical little Andrew.
Jake however, is still young enough that he will not be labeled as a freak for being a cub scout. He joined the neighbor's pack and loves it. I find the events excruciating. There is too much pep involved in every thing and everyone is smiling--all the time! They expect the parents to sing cheesy songs and preform skits and know the boy scout salute. I suffer through it gladly because it makes Jake super happy. It's a small price to pay.
No comments:
Post a Comment