Soldier Dad sends son to Scout camp to keep him busy and this is what the Mom gets.
Camp Letter
Dear Mom,
Our Scoutmaster told us all to write to our parents in case you saw the flood on TV and worried. We are OK. Only one of our tents and two sleeping bags got washed away. Luckily, none of us got drowned because we were all up on the mountain looking for Chad when it happened.
Oh yes, please call Chad's mother and tell her that he's OK. He can't write because of the cast. I got to ride on one of the search and rescue jeeps. It was neat. We never would have found him in the dark if it hadn't been for the lightning.
Scoutmaster Webb got mad at Chad for going on a hike alone without telling anyone. Chad said he did tell him, but it was during the fire so he probably didn't hear him.
Did you know that if you put a gas can on a fire, the gas can will blow up? Billy is going to look weird until his hair grows back.
We will be home on Saturday if Scoutmaster Webb gets the car fixed. It wasn't his fault about the wreck. The brakes worked OK when we left. Scoutmaster Webb said that with a car that old you to have to expect something to break down; that's probably why he can't get insurance on it. We think it's a neat car. He doesn't care if we get it dirty, and if it's hot, sometimes he lets us ride in the tailgate. It gets pretty hot with ten people in a car.
Scoutmaster Webb is a neat guy. Don't worry, he is a good driver. In fact, he is teaching Terry how to drive. But he only lets him drive on the mountain roads where there isn't any traffic. All we ever see up there are logging trucks.
Guess what? We have all passed our first aid merit badges. When Dave dove in the lake and cut his arm, we got to see how a tourniquet works.
Also, Wade and I threw up. Scoutmaster Webb said it probably was just food poisoning from the leftover chicken. He said they got sick that way with the food they ate in prison.
I'm so glad he got out and became our Scoutmaster. He said he sure figured out how to get things done better while he was doing his time.
I have to go now. We are going into town to mail our letters and buy bullets.
Don't worry about anything. We are fine.
Love, Johnny
Every parent's worse nightmare.
I am ROTFLMBO at Johnny's letter......kids. They write good stuff, well, to them anyway. Poor Mom.