Beavers, Beavers, Beavers. Moron, Moron, Moron.

I don't think I told you Henry and I joined Beavers this Fall. His colony didn't have a leader, so I signed up.

This weekend was our first camp. The older kids stayed for the weekend, but our guys just went for a fun day on Saturday.

At the end of the night, there was a mass of fun confusion in the cabin we used as home base. The boys had just returned from campfire, and were finding their mums and dads. Some of the boys whose parent's hadn't arrived yet were running around.

Jack, our smallest Beaver, approached me. He was mumbling quietly, keeping his eyes to the ground. I thought I heard a 'thank you.'

Me: Aw, Jack. No problem. I had a great time. Did you?

He smiled and mumbled some more. I thought I heard him say 'yes.'

Me: That's great. And next time-

Jack: ..forty-nine, fifty! READY OR NOT, HERE I COME!

He ran away in search of his hiding comrades.

Me: I am a moron.

3 comments:

audra said...

that was quite funny! i laughed out loud on that one and had to read it again! and i laughed some more! (laughed WITH you, of course. not AT you.)

Words Words said...

Oh, you can laugh at me. We moron's get that quite a bit. (we kinda like it)

Decadent Housewife said...

There's a bloggy award for you over at DD. Just fun.

But I truly do enjoy this place - clear, concise. Can't wait to see your writing through their teen years.