Living Dangerously

Sometimes a little Boy Scout Camp can be a dangerous thing.

Right now, my back porch is full of Hood Ornaments. That's my nickname for the bunch of Boy Scouts who hang around with Middle Sister and the Boy Next Door. I call them Hood Ornaments because they ride their bicycles in such an unsafe manner that sooner or later (I'm betting on sooner), one of them is going to become one.

I don't usually mind the Hood Ornaments, though they tend to be loud and messy. But they're good kids.

However, they came back from Boy Scout Camp last week, and they're eager to put their newfound knowledge to good use. I just went out there and found one of them standing in the middle of a pile of yellow ropes and large carabiners.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm making a Swiss rappel seat," he informed me.

I warned him to stay off the pool deck, shed roof and house roof, as well as my clothesline. I'm not sure where else he might go with all his mountain-climbing equipment, and I'm not sure I want to. I just hope that when he gets hurt (it's a matter of time), it's on someone else's property.