continued from previous blog...

Stewie and I were in Cub Scouts together. Actually, we were Webelos, which meant that we were one step away from becoming full-fledged Boy Scouts.

Now, our Boy Scout troop was not my mother's 1950s Boy Scout troop. Only the worst were in our troop. Except for Stewie. Right?

We were going on a weekend-long jamboree. Friday night, Saturday night and Sunday.

I wish my life had been like a YA novel and everyone in the troop was kind and innocent, interested in a spooky ghost adventure in an abandoned mine! This, obviously, was not the case.

To be continued...