During a weekend campout with his Pack a year ago, one Saturday activity was to make cobbler with a buddy. Camping cobbler is usually done by dumping in layers of fruit and butter, then sprinkling with a dry cake mix. J as so excited at his concoction, he could not wait to try the cooked version later. I think the whole exercise was a test in the practice of Scouting principles.
That evening, we got stuck in the awards and skit ceremony. It drug on and on.
Then we got stuck at the flag burning ceremony. Old flags must be burned and the guy in charge of this ceremony went above and beyond the call of duty gathering many, many, many flags. I think he's a fire bug.
We waited and sweated.
And waited.
And waited.
The cobblers were the bait to stay to the end. By this time, it was well after 10pm. The flags were burned. Our eyes and lungs stung, as they shouldn't have been burning synthetics. I was miserable, ready to go home, me only having come for the evening this time and not camping.
However, J had his eye on his price. Finally given the chance, J spied his masterpiece.
Dad hovered at the other end of the table, waiting on the prize.
Success at last! Boy reunited with cobbler! He had waited there so politely and patiently, that they fed him first amongst the masses.
Anticipation rewarded.
2 comments:
If he's that excited about the camping version, just think of the things you'd be able to get him to do around the house for the real one!
Isn't that always the case? Make you sit around all night and do something not fun just to get to the desert....
Reminds me of how dating used to be in an odd way.
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