I Promise This Will Become a Story About Legare

Here I am. (But most of you are probably gone by now, huh?)

Been pretty busy. Who hasn't, right?
I haven't even been online to read my old standby blogs (those in the side bar and others that I vulturize on a daily basis). I don't know if I could tell you what it is I've been doing other than running children to their activities and celebrating birthdays. Bryan's was Sunday.

I had a few people over on Friday for enchiladas and Sangria, we went out on Saturday night with some friends, and then went to his mother's on Sunday. We were out of town weekend before last, and we're headed back out this weekend coming.

So we've been busy, but we've been having fun. I do have a funny, kind of endearing story, to share about Legare though.

Legare has started cub scouts. He loves it, and man is he handsome in his uniform. He is really taking it very seriously so far and every now and then he will even say..."Mom, I'm doing my best. Just like a scout is supposed to do." I say - scouts...why did I wait so long to sign him up?

Well, last night's meeting involved learning about pocket knife care and safety. So I went out to WalMart and Lowe's to see which Swiss Army/Victorinox knife I wanted to get him. I ended up with this one. But at WalMart I paid way less than the price listed here.

Anyway, they learned safety. How to handle it, close the blade, when to use it, when not to use it, etc, etc. They even started whittling/carving a block of soap. Legare was really excited to show me that he had cut his finger but he "didn't even know" he had done it until he looked down and saw blood. The band aid was a nice green, cloth camouflage.

Then, when I encouraged him to show his Dad the new knife, he eagerly grabbed at his cargo pocket on his pants. And that's when the color left his face. Because his knife was not there. Long story short...after many disappointed tears and searching the house, the car, and both again, Bryan took him back down to the car to look one more time. And sure enough, the knife was there - wedged under the seat where it landed when it feel out of the before mentioned cargo pocket. This brought relief and many more "relief" tears. I've never seen him be quite so hard on himself before. It was really sweet.

But I did say this was a funny story. Bryan and I both started laughing about how ironic it was that he was at scouts to get his Pocket Knife Responsibility badge. And that, within 30 minutes, he had cut his finger and lost the knife.