Juss and I went camping with the Cub Scouts this weekend. It was a truly delightful event with much joy and Scout cheer, but two things in particular amused me.
I have heard from Juss’s teachers that he has trouble deciding what to write. I find this odd, as he’s clearly a good storyteller, but I saw it in action. The Cub Scouts did a round robin story, each one adding a line:
“A boy walked into the woods.” “He fell in a pool.” “He got bitten by a shark.” “He bumped into a tree.” “He farted” “He passed out.” (Ever time he got hurt the storyteller insisted he was in Magic Land where all wounds vanished instantly.)
When it was Juss’s turn, he could not think of anything to say. He hemmed and hawed. He tried several times without finishing. They came back to him, twice.
On his third try, Juss declared clearly, “He went fishing and caught…the shark!”
I was so amused. He was the only child who had plot motion to his comment (this happened then that), the only one that was witty (he fished but did not catch fish), and the only one who included an element from earlier in the story. He had refused to answer quickly because he had wanted to get it right. It was worth the wait.
The second was that Juss and I were discussing a boy he had met who seemed interested in being friends. Juss told me something they had done together. The following then ensue:
Mommy: “No wonder he liked you. You’re funny.”
Juss waving his hands and practically shouting: “Of course I’m funny. Daddy is funny. I have to be funny or I would not be a good son!”