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My oldest son is a Boy Scout –always prepared – except when his mom isn’t involved.

Yesterday was an all-day track meet.  He is addicted to pole vaulting.  I know you are picturing a high flying act, but I guess it takes a little practice.  I think he should be able to fling himself to 15 feet by now, I mean he weighs little to nothing.  But we settle for around 7 feet on a good day. And by “we settle”, I mean, he is totally stoked and I am wondering why he couldn’t get his non-existent butt over 8 feet.  I am a tiny bit competitive.  He does it “cuz it’s fun.”  Whatever.  This is before he perfected the form…oh that’s right, he hasn’t yet because he has only really vaulted about 5 different times.

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So back to yesterday’s meet…He went all day.  All sunny day.  Without sunscreen because he is always prepared except that his mom forgot to send any so he wasn’t.  They wear helmets to vault.  The result is worse than a farmer tan.

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He is also brilliant.   Strawberry smoothies don’t defy gravity.  He tested the theory.  And he let me take a picture. 

(No, he cant get braces until those cuspid teeth drop in, and we have been waiting since the baby teeth were surgically removed the first week of 6th grade.)

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