Our ward’s “Father and Sons” campout was supposed to be tonight.
Did you catch the “supposed”?
It has rained on and off all week long, and since the church’s campsite property is up in the mountains, it meant the camp had fresh snow and the roads were impassible. (Is this not June? Are we not just weeks away from the “official” start of summer?) So, the stake leaders did the smart thing and postponed the campout. Actually, in my mind, the smarter thing would have been to pitch the tents on the church lawn and get it over with, but no one asked me. (It’s a shame, really. I have ALL the answers.) (Hush.) What is it about camping that turns normally-sensible men into a bunch of preadolescent scouts? Really, my nine-year-old has more sense.
For work and/or scheduling reasons, this is the first year Kenny was able to go. Ever. He was so excited to be able to go with Alex, and at one point he even offered to take Anthony, but I was afraid we’d lose him in the wilderness, so I said no. (Don’t think there aren’t days I don’t threaten to drive him to the very same wilderness and leave him stranded. In this instance, I guess my “responsible mom” switch kicked on. Bummer. *snort*) The plan was to have all the men bring up their own dinners, and the leaders would cook breakfast for everyone the next morning. And that was the extent of the camp. One overnight. Sixteen hours. Men being manly and little boys telling funny stories about how un-manly the manly men really were. To me, it sounds about as appealing as having surgery without anesthesia, but darn it, my boys were excited, and therefore crushed, when it was cancelled postponed. (I’m not going to hold my breath… my guess is it will be postponed until next year.)
I came up with the brilliant (yes, thank you) idea that they should still have an outing, just not overnight or in the wilderness. My boys went to dinner, played around at the nickel arcade, and took in a dollar movie (Horton Hears a Who). They had a blast. They were home by 9:15 PM, and all the kids were in bed by 9:30. No one came home with Impetigo or Lime Disease. There were no smoky tents to air out and no muddy clothes to wash.
What I DID get was a night with my girls. Anthony went home with my sister when she picked Abbie up, so that left Kendra, Hannah and me to plan a girls-only night. We ordered a pizza, watched a Food Network Challenge about Disney/Pixar cakes, and played a mean game of Mario Party 5 on the GameCube. I got stomped. While being crushed by my eight-year-old is nothing new, being left in the dust by a FOUR YEAR OLD certainly is. I’m going to blame it on the fact that I kept falling asleep between turns, and sometimes even DURING turns. My girls thought it was hilarious, which was a good thing. They got to laugh at their mom and I got to sleep!
Oh, and my boys brought back some movie theater popcorn for me, because they know I love it. (Sweet, I know.) Mmmmmm, synthetic butter and oil that soaks through the container and leaves a greasy ring around your mouth. I could only eat a few handfuls before my stomach threatened violent protest, but it was delicious.
All in all, it was another good day, and a really great night.