A State of Wild Disorder

On Tuesday, the day after our weekly Cub Scout meeting, I received a call from the Cub Master.  Initially, the call was unrelated to the collective antics of Justin's den, but the conversation soon circled around to the previous evening's welter.

"Justin, Mr. Hollopeter called me this afternoon," I said, once I had arrived home and tracked him down in his bedroom.

Stunned silence.  A rare and prized achievement.

"I wonder if you could tell me what he might have been calling to discuss regarding you and Winston at Monday night's meeting?" 

The awkward silence and accompanying "deer in the headlights" look broke into a wide grin. 

"He's glad to see that we're such good friends and he wants to see that continue?" he said hopefully.

Chuckle-worthy, but no.  Try again.

- 4 October 2011