Happy Birthday to Me

I had a birthday last week and my wife gave me the best card ever.  My (younger) sister always remembers my birthday with a “funny” card about how old and decrepit I must be getting… like I need reminding.  This one is better.

Some years ago, another Scoutmaster had some patches made up for the adult leaders with an embroidered rocking chair.  The adults were supposed to be the “Rocking Chair” patrol, who do nothing but lay around camp.  Theoretically, in a boy-run troop (the ideal), that’s all the adults should be doing (though it rarely works out that way).

I’m more of a believer in “it’s better to wear out than to rust out”, so I had one of those patches modified for myself.  No rocking chair for me, thanks.  I work hard so that I can take those boys rock-climbing and hiking, and carry my own luggage, and go where I want to go under my own power.  I'd like to bypass the early heart-attack mode of the Mobley men, too.

That’s why I love this card. I’d love to be the model for a card like this one when this guy finally retires from the business.  I have to admit that he looks like he has more energy at eighty (or whatever) than I do now.  Maybe he gets a nap every day, like President Reagan.  Maybe I should, too.  Work hard, and sleep hard — like a growing puppy (or President Reagan).