I Caught A Dino!...and other Merritt stories

The day after we got back from Nauvoo was our Jurassic Park Pack Meeting for Cub Scouts and I had volunteered to make dinosaur bone cookies and do a Paleontologist's Corner. I had Chad print out five big pictures of a Styracosaurus, Cryolophosaurus, Brachiosaurus, Compsognathus, and a Tyrannosaurus Rex, which later ended up on Merritt's wall, and I did dino bios on each one. I then invited Merritt to the meeting because I needed a special dinosaur helper, and because one of the other cub leaders, knowing that Merritt is a huge dinosaur fan, offered to bring a costume for him to dress up in. He was, of course, ecstatic to go and told me, "I get to go to the dinosaur Scout meeting because you need a dinosaur expert to help you." True, true.

The Cub Committee Leader is a fabulous lady and she had found a plastic safari hat for me to wear while extoling the virtues and vices of dinosaurs. Merritt held the pictures for me and inserted commentary whenever he felt I wasn't being thorough enough, which had people's jaws hanging on the ground because he's so stinkin' smart. Apparently I was pretty convincing in my dinosaur scientist role because I was approached by a ward member who said, "So this is where Merritt gets all his dinosaur information. His mom's a paleontologist!" I tried to explain that it is MERRITT'S FAULT that I know ANYTHING AT ALL about dinosaurs, but he looked skeptical. Well, it's true, it really is. That is a good little dino-boy I have.

Picture number three here is Merritt as a first-grade pirate. They made hats, put on eye patches, and yelled "ARRGH!" as they searched for buried treasure. Inside the treasure chest the kids found a pirate bouncy ball and a skull-and-crossbones ring for each one of them. So cute! I tried to have Merritt either give me a big smile or a fearsome grimace for this picture, but since I snapped his head with the elastic on the eyepatch (accidentally!) he looks more pained than anything.

Merritt's hair had grown out of control, and I usually don't cut it because he complains something fierce when I do. It's like each and every hair has a nerve ending that is racked with pain when I run the clippers across it...so annoying, especially since he doesn't say thing one to the stylist at the salon. I cut Chad's hair and he doesn't cry! The other big issue is that he doesn't like to get all that "itchy hair" on his skin. Clothes on or clothes off and swaddled in towels - it doesn't matter, he'll still whine about being itchy. Since we ran out of time to take him to a salon it was up to me to cut Merritt's hair, but I really didn't want the accompanying drama, so this time I stuck him in a garbage bag. It was novel, he enjoyed it (except when he tried to use his hand under the plastic to wipe his face and got hair in his mouth), and even told the bishop about his hair cut adventure.