The kid who lives in my house is an Eagle Scout, which fills his mother and me with both pride and astonishment. Is this the same lump of carbon that spent his tadpole years Velcroed to the sofa with a Game Boy controller in his paw?
A few years back he shuffled home from school and mumbled something about joining the Scouts. We would have been less shocked if he told us he had memorized the collected works of Chaucer in the original Middle-English.
As a 9-year-old he told us, "I don't like to sweat."
Eagle Scout? Not in our wildest parental fantasy.
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