The Planet

If you’ve read the post Good Intentions, you know that I’ve been dreading one of the many ‘talks’ to be had with BW about adult and mature topics. It’s not THE talk, but one about the Boy Scouts of America and the 3G’s; Girls, Gays and Godless.

Ever since BW began Boy Scouts, it’s been a tenuous journey. He and JB are such close friends and whenever JB thought she couldn’t do something, regardless of what it was, BW was there to rally her. And none of us liked the fact that the only country where Boy Scouts doesn’t let girls join is here, in the United States – the land of the free and ‘equal’.

After dropping JB off at dance class, BW and I were out running errands, and I used the opportunity for some Mama/Son conversation.

“BW, I have a question for you.”

“Yes Mama?”

“So, you know how unfair it is that your sister can’t participate in Boy Scouts, right?”

“Um-hum.”

“Well, not only do the Boy Scouts not let girls in, but they also don’t let in what they call ‘Gay’ people.”

“Yeah. that doesn’t seem right … Mama, what is gay?”

“Well. It describes what kind of person you fall in love with. For the Boy Scouts, it means that when a boy grows up into a man, he falls in love with and wants to marry another man. The Scouts says that isn’t ok, and you can’t be part of their group if you are like that. But, I’m uncomfortable with that rule because I don’t think that it’s ok to tell people that they aren’t good enough to join your group because of the way they are born. What do you think?”

“I get what you are saying, and it seems like that rule is kind of silly. JB is stronger and more talented than any of the boys in Scouts. Besides we don’t spend our times hugging and holding hands. I wish we spent more time using our knives and learning how to shoot and respecting the blood zone. I need to teach JB about that. You don’t want any blood in your blood circle.”

“Well, there is the third G, and that is for people who believe in or have a God.”

“You mean they don’t want those people to be part of their group?”

“That’s right. If you don’t believe in God, they say ‘no thank you’ to joining them.”

“Well. You don’t have to worry Mama because I have a God.”

“You do?” I asked somewhat startled as neither religion not the topic of God have been a significant focus in our home.

“Yeah! It’s Uranus.” Pronouncing it as ‘Your-anus’ rather than Yer-anus. “We learned all about him in school. He is a Greek God, and he’s so important that they even named a planet after him! Isn’t that COOL!?”

“Oh … Well, I guess.”

“Yeah. So. There, you don’t have to worry.”

“And, how do you show respect for him?”

“Oh, I sit and think quietly. And wonder how I can be like him, and someday have a planet named after me.”

Well. Alright.

Later that night as we were eating dinner, the subject of God came up again as I mentioned to Charles that apparently BW had one.

“Yeah! He has a planet named after him!”

Looking confused, Charles raised his eyebrows and asked, “And his name is….”

“Uranus!”

At the mention of God, JB became upset and said that it was no fair, that BW had a God and she didn’t. To which BW said that she could have Uranus as a God too.

“But I don’t want Uranus!”

“It’s not spelled MY-anus, it’s UR-anus. And he’s so strong we can share him.”

“Ewww! I don’t want Uranus, I want my own!”

At that point, Charles and I exchanged a glance, sighed deeply and surfed the wave of chaos. I don’t remember much after that as the two began to bicker in earnest about how one spelled and pronounced the God of Uranus and whether or not he could be shared.

The Greek God. And oh, by the way… He has a planet named after him.

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