Tales From the Campfire: First Aid for Happy Dancers

What kind of story is this? This is the story of jails full of bad liars. No, no, no. It’s Tales From the Campfire. I knew that. No, you didn’t. You’re a liar. You’re in jail. I’m not in jail. Yeah, you are. You’re behind those bars. These aren’t bars. What are they then? Yes, they are. I’m a zebra. Get out of here, you liar! Time to talk, boys. The new troop in town is coming for a visit. I want you on your best behavior. It’s time to ship up or shape out. When I was your age, my mom sent me to Timbuktu for two months of military training, just for not listening. How do you think I got this posture? And another thing… What have you guys heard about this new troop? I heard that they’re all pushing 6-foot-6. Totally Jacked. Supposedly, they’re already getting scouted for college ball. No, I heard they’ve earned every merit badge and they’re the great-great-great great-great-great grandchildren of Robert Baden-Powell. Wow! Now, who’s that? Robert Baden-Powell. He’s the founder of Scouting. Madison? What are you doing here? Don’t say you’re in the new troop or I’m going to break into a happy dance. Oh, my gosh, Beith. Yes. We’re the new troop. But slow down! You know what happens when you dance too hard. Too late. It’s happening. I’m happy dancing, and I’m catching the dance fever. Oh, no, guys. It’s happening. He’s fainted! Let’s put that first-aid training into practice. Stat! And if you want to up your first-aid game, head to go.boyslife.org/firstaid And that’s when I said, “Mom, you raised me and I respect you. But I am not answering the phone every time you call. Sometimes I need my space. I love you but you gotta let this little birdie fly. …” And of course, mom understood. She’s mom. She agreed that we’d cut way back on our phone call frequency and duration. The
new deal is that we talk for just 35 minutes every morning, from 10:25 until
The Price is Right comes on at 11. She just loves that Showcase Showdown. Then each evening, we talk during the local news, but only until the weather
comes on. “Brucie, if we talk during the weather, how’s your poor mama gonna know whether she needs to bring the plants in. You don’t want your poor mom’s begonias freezing, do you Brucie? Do you want to murder my begonias?” Ha. Mom sure does love those flowers. They’re like the child she never had. Huh. Anyway boys, that new troop is gonna be here any minute so…

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