My 6-year-old son Bucket Head wants to be a Tiger Cub.
It’s all he’s been talking about for two weeks: “MOM! THEY GET TO SHOOT BOWS AND ARROWS! AND GO CAMPING! AND RACE PINEWOOD DERBY CARS!!!”
Is it just me, or does this bronze statue look like a giant turd?
Bucket Head was made to be a Cub Scout. The kid can’t walk without finding and picking up sharp sticks wherever he goes.
So we went to the Cub Scout Roundup last night; sat and listened and whooped and hollered at all the appropriate cues; and then when the Cubmaster asked for volunteer Den Leaders, it was so quiet you could hear a flea fart.
Honest to Pete, the only sound in the joint was the cafeteria clock going tick-tick-tick as all the parents put their heads down and avoided eye contact with each other.
Cubmasters must be used to this response because they played it pretty cool.
…for the first five minutes.
And then the begging began in earnest.
One of the other leaders approached my husband who has worked with my oldest son’s Boy Scout Troop for years and said, “Jim? How about you? Ready to be a Den Leader?”
“Sorry, Bob. Can’t do it this year.”
“Oh, come on. It’s only an hour a week and the first four meetings are totally planned out for you.”
“No can do, man. I’m already spread way too thin.”
“Anyone? Folks, we can’t have a Tiger Den without two Den Leaders,” the Cubmaster pleaded.
“Do it for the kids! We’ll help you. There is training!”
You could see the panic sprawled across all those sweet little 6-year-old faces.
“What’s happening, Mom?” one of the boys whispered.
Nobody was stepping up.
A bead of sweat slowly trickled down the face of the dad across the table from me as he busied himself on his iPhone.
Uh-oh. This is bad, I thought to myself.
And just when it looked like poor little Bucket Head wasn’t going to get to be a Cub Scout after all, a small voice piped up from the back:
“I’ll do it.”
A universal, audible sigh of relief reached everyone’s ears at once.
Wait, who said that?
Who is that crazy woman in the back raising her hand?
Hey! I know her! Hi!
Hold on, folks.
She might not be the best choice.
Isn’t she a… a… a humorist?
I mean, she overshares on the Internet. And she has a book on Amazon about lady bits and stuff!
Oh well. Too late now.
Ladies and gentlemen, say hello to your newest Cub Scout Den Leader!
(It’s me. Say hello to me. Thanks. I get tired of talking to myself, y’know?)
Yeah. I’m just as shocked as you are.
(But I’m pretty excited about the uniform!)
So we’ll have to see how it goes. I’m bracing myself for the very real possibility that I will be deemed “unacceptable” as a Cub Scout Den Leader based on my, well… me-ness. But like I tell my kids all the time, beggars can’t be choosers. You don’t want someone like me* heading up your Tiger Cub Den? Then step up.
But in the meantime, I already know one of the crafts we’ll be doing! The boys are going to LOVE IT!
To help you fully appreciate what an enormous full circle moment this is for me and my family, I’ve spruced up one of my very first blog posts for you about the time I played Cornhole and perfected the art of the Dutch Oven at Cub Scout Family Camp five years ago. It’s probably new to you, and it is one of my all time favorites. Enjoy!
© 2013 The Bearded Iris