Life With Boys

This past weekend we went on our first “official” boy scout family camp-out and a good time was had by all.

In preparation for this notable event Morgan and I made a pilgrimage to Uncle Sam’s (the local Army surplus store) where we were clearly not the typical clientele — but alas we found what we came for, a skillet and an armful of other necessary paraphernalia (including but not limited to mosquito repellent, a grill to go over the fire and a spare tent pole). After waiting for 20 minutes in line to purchase our gear (I clearly was not at Target) and trying to keep Morgan out of the display of guns and bb’s. I took a gander at the gentleman holding up the line. He was about 6 ft, 280 lbs, washed his mullet last month sometime, maybe, and had his hat from 1982 to dress it up and the piece de resistance — he was drinking his Mountain Dew out of a quart mason jar, with a straw — where do they come from?

Anyway …

Friday morning I’m yelling at the kids to get ready for school, trying desperately to pack clothes for our adventure without being late for work and ta da — my back seizes — I wasn’t going anywhere. 3 ibuprofen and a nap later I could almost move again. Make two phone calls – one to my primary care doctor to get some kind of muscle relaxer and you would think the second would be to the boy scouts to let them know we would not be joining them right — you know me
better than that — I went to the chiropractor, let them poke at me for a while and hobbled back home to finish packing.

So drugged up me manges to get us and all the gear into the truck. Matt would tell you I was over-prepared for the trip, with the exception of one small item, the tent poles. Yeah, somehow we made it all the way there without the poles for the tent, apparently they don’t fit in the tent bag. WalMart to the rescue. Matt heads out to find another tent that we can make do with (our original tent sleeps 10) And what does Matt find after more than an hour away? A three person dome tent — by 3 people I think they mean kids. But we’re going to do this come hell or high water.

It’s getting dark, we’ve not eaten, it’s getting cold and I have a barbie sized tent. Perfect. I go about assembling our sleeping quarters. Because we were scheduled for a two-night stay I gave in and brought the blow up mattress (with my nifty new little battery-powered blower). So here I am, in nature (or as natural as an RV park is) making a racket with my little blower — it was like the scene in “City Slickers” where the guy is trying to grind his espresso — anyway. With the mattress inflated there is approximately 3 feet of space for the boys to sleep in — thank god they are small.

We awake to the sounds of fellow scouts. It is freezing. Tyler has to pee and somehow my air mattress has failed us and we all wake up in a heap flat on the ground.

In the end we decided we had all the camp out fun we could handle and headed home to sleep in our own beds.

Can’t wait for next year!