Monday, I arrived at the Little Professor's Boy Scouts meeting on time, and he had his uniform shirt (tucked-in!), book and dues.
There should have been a celebration. Sadly, I didn't even get a soft-shoe shuffle from the scouts. They must not have realized just how impressive this was.
They're planning another overnight camp-out. I haven't told the Long Suffering Husband yet, but he's going. The last time I sent him on a camp-out, it coincided with his birthday. He was a touch grumpy about it. This isn't my fault; the scoutmaster schedules the trips.
And I don't sleep on the ground. Nor do I go without coffee in the morning.
The Little Professor begged me to go on this overnight trip, since we would be sleeping indoors, albeit on the floor.
"Momma, please, please, please?"
"No. You know how unpleasant I am in the morning before I've had my coffee. Something disastrous would happen."
"But then you could write a column about it."
"No column is worth the lives of your fellow scouts."
Bits and pieces:
"LSH doesn't like that," she said.
"Yes, he does, actually."
"No, he doesn't."
"You're confusing LSH with Grampy Grumpy," I explained. "LSH does like it."
"He doesn't like coconut."
"No, Grampy Grumpy doesn't like coconut."
"Buy chocolate. Men like chocolate."
So I bought chocolate. It wasn't worth the argument. When I asked him about it later, the LSH was mystified.
"I've eaten that tons of times," he said. "I've bought pecan-and-coconut frosting."
I'm taking a German chocolate cake with pecan-and-coconut icing to the next extended family dinner. Then I am going to make him eat a piece - in front of Grandmama.
Every year the ham gets bigger and bigger. And more elaborate. It's dwarfing the turkey now. The boys don't complain, because they're more than happy to dine on turkey and ham, but I'm annoyed.
I've never liked turkey, and she knows that.
She loves LSH best.
(Wallace-Minger, The Weirton Daily Times community editor, is a Weirton resident and can be contacted at firstname.lastname@example.org)