he's in training . . .

to be a

Boy Scout.

One morning in early June.

Boston

informed me

he would

be sleeping

on the deck

that night.

So he ran to his room, 

pulled out his

sleeping bag

and his

pillow.

When I looked out

and saw him

in his

bag,

with a big smile on his face . . .

I was happy for him

but

sad for me,

because

someday he will become that

Boy Scout.

Sleeping under the stars.

Eating strange food.

Trying to light anything that will light, on fire.

I can almost smell the camp fire.

But I will let him eat the fish.