Woodbadge

Last Sunday, my family and I went to visit Grandpa Murray. We were sitting around the table talking, and my dad asked me if I would get him a cup of water. Being the obedient and respectful daughter that I am, I went into the kitchen and filled up a mug-my favorite mug, in fact.

I brought the cup to my dad and said, "Here Dad. I even put your water in my very favorite cup-the cup I use every time I get a drink at Grandpa Murray's." Dad took one look at the cup and said, "Oh, no. You haven't been to woodbadge. You can't use this cup."

I was so distraught. Of course I argued my case, but my dad said, "You can't use this cup if you can't sing the woodbadge song." Having never been to woodbadge, I do not know the song, of course. Although I definitely tried. My woodbadge song was amazing, and I thought it might have fooled me dad, but no.

I sat there all sad and forlorn for awhile before remembering who is really in charge of that cup-and who would do anything for his granddaughter. So I turned to Grandpa and said, "Grandpa, can I please drink out of the woodbadge cup?" And he said, "Yes, dear, whatever you would like."

Haha. Now that is the way to do things. Also, Grandpa let us eat sour cream fudge. Yum.