It’s getting to be that time again, so I thought I would share another older post that you might enjoy. It’ll be different this year. This I swear by the stars.
Oh, Cub Scouts. Oh, Pinewood Derby. Oh, mommy humiliation at the horrific reality of having the only minimalist (read: ghetto) car at the event. You are supposed to transform your car into a tank, or a monster, or maybe even a parade float. Ours looked more like a suet cake on wheels. With googley eyes. One of the uniform-wearing types in my kid’s “den” asked him point-blank, “Did you work hard on that?” Yeah, about as hard as you worked on tying that neckerchief, Skippy. We will invest in the uniform shirt after taxes come back. Maybe.
I’m the mom. I don’t go to the Cub Scout meetings. This means that males have to acquire all of the relevant information using only their own rudimentary listening skills. This is why we somehow did not know that the one-time “Car Cut” event meant that you either go and have your block…
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