kiwords

Please permit me a brief parental brag. I took Tre to the Pack meeting tonight (in case you’re wondering, the small group of eight boys he meets with twice a month is a den. The gathering of all the dens is the Pack). He was very excited, because tonight they were announcing the winners of the greenery sales contest.
Well, I know you’re all agog, so I won’t keep you in suspense. Tre came in fourth in sales in the whole pack. Of course, he smoked the rest of his den. Um…please re-write that last sentence for yourself to make it sound more sportsmanship-like.
For his stellar showing he won a model electric plane, and a hockey puck signed by Milan Hejduk of the Colorado Avalanche. I am not proud to confess that my delight in the latter item is based mostly on the knowledge that it would reeeeeealy frost my ex’s hide if he only knew that if he were around he would have access to a hockey puck signed by Milan Hejduk. (Insert small, evil snicker here)
However, the true joy of the evening was watching Tre. He sat on the edge of his seat when they started announcing winners, fairly trembling with anticipation. He bounced a little. And when they called his name he turned to me and smiled, then walked up there to receive his goods with such poise. He turned to come back and the delight on his face set the entire room aglow. Plus he’s the cutest wee Cub Scout ever. Just reporting the facts here.
After the awards they brought in jugglers for the boys to watch. That was fine, but then they decided to break up the 100-plus little boys into four groups, give them each three bean bags, and teach them to juggle. Oy. Hand out bean bags to hordes of hyped up little boys and say, “here, guys. Why don’t you juggle these?” It would have been calmer inside a popcorn machine. Bean bags were flying everywhere. They were whacking into the ceiling, whizzing past ears, being shoved down shirts. Some boys took the direct approach to juggling, wherein they would choose a partner (with or without the partner’s knowledge) and rapid-fire the bags into his chest. That was fun.
I watched the teeming crowd of manic little jugglers, my son gleaming like a jewel in their midst (again, only reporting the facts here), and had to admit it. These Scouts are pretty cool.