Saturday, June 14, 2008
Hippie Child Goes Boy Scout
Way back when, I was a Brownie (the junior Girl Scout rank). Other than vague memories of gluing popsicle sticks together into Christmas ornaments in the basement of the Methodist church, I can't remember much about the experience. And since I am genetically engineered with that Irish sense of humorous irony stirred with a revolutionary bent, it didn't take long for the scouting thing to rankle my 9 yo sensibilities. When the "flying up" ceremony that would transform me from a Brownie to a Girl Scout came along, I immediately flew out. Also, I didn't like the uniform. My peace sign necklace kept getting snagged on the medals and patches.
All this leads me to explain why I am proud of my son aka Hippie Child. Unlike his more inflexible mother, it just made sense to him to wear his Che Guevara tee shirt with his Cub Scout uniform. Now, if the Boy Scouts would just come up with a "peace now" patch, he'd be all set. I'm also hoping that part of the fire safety requirement will include keeping his hair out of the camp fire.
(I am impressed that he went so far as to trade in his flip-flops for sneakers. Gotta dress up for the ceremony, Mom.)