Once again…
30 Nov 2009 Leave a Comment
Once again apologizing for the lack of posts! The days just fly by! I really do intend to begin writing more regular blog posts… but since I’ll probably write them longhand in a notebook first, who can say whether they will actually make it to the blog in a timely manner!
We had a very blessed thanksgiving and are headed into the season of Advent! Such an exciting time of year! And so much fun to see the excitement in my younger siblings!
Happy Advent!!
Once Upon a Camping Adventure
01 Jul 2009 2 Comments
For Fathers Day, this year and last, my brothers have taken Dad on an all-expenses-paid, boys-only camping trip. They depart one Sunday afternoon with fishing poles and tents and we womenfolk don’t see or hear from them for 27 hours. Of those 27 hours, all of TWO will be spent in deep, restful sleep. The rest of the time is spent fishing, swimming (if the fishing isn’t good), and listening to the conversations/fights that sleeping siblings will carry on with one another. While these trips make wonderful, fond memories to ponder at length in 50 years, a few aspects of the trip could use refinement.
One aspect will just take time, as it is my darling 3-year-old brother. See, 3-year-old’s don’t see camping trips with the boys in exactly the same perspective as the boys. That, of course, both complicates matters and makes stories even more hilarious.
Upon our return from church on the Sunday of the departure, Andrew (oldest of my brothers–the whole group of whom being commonly referred to as ‘the boys’) enlightened Sam to the fact that they would be leaving after lunch for a camping trip with “just the men.”
Sam’s response was impossible not to hear. From all the way up in my room I heard Sam jumping around downstairs screeching, “We’re going camping! We’re going camping! All night! Without the girls!!!!” I solemnly swear that my sisters and I do nothing to make him want to get away from us that badly—he wants to come with me when I go to college because he can’t bear the thought of me leaving him. I guess when the positions are reversed and it is him leaving me, it’s an entirely different animal.
At any rate, his enthusiasm was contagious, to the boys as well as the girls. Because, as every girls knows, all the fun begins when brothers leave. All of the sudden, toilet seats stay down and the silence isn’t broken every five minutes by boys’ impromptu wrestling matches. Don’t get me wrong—I love my brothers and I like young men in general if they aren’t my brothers and I want to get married someday and have a bunch of kids of my own—but you ladies with brothers will understand what I mean. There is just something relieving about having the house occupied solely by females for 24 hours.
So the boys departed in a flurry of excitement with 36 drinks, 10 hotdogs, a package of bologna, 2 bags of chips, and plans to pick up catsup and mustard on the way. They also had chicken livers, but I don’t even want to know if they ate those. One can certainly hope they were used as bait, but I have watched my brothers use hotdogs as bait before… I guess you never can tell what food went where and some things are just better left unknown.
They fished all evening, Sam included, except for the times he was going to the bathroom or asking for drinks and food. At 9:30, Dad announced the big B-word.
Oh yes. And all the fun began.
“Bedtime, Sam.”
“I want to fish!”
“You’re sleepy and whiny and you didn’t have a nap. Bedtime.”
“Can I play with my toys in the tent?”
“What toys? You don’t have any toys except Meme, right? You can go to sleep with Meme. How’s that?”
“I have toys.”
Dad peered into the tent incredulously. Lo and behold, one of Sam’s adoring fans (aka Mary Grace) had stuffed a bag with toys to bring Sam pleasure during any moments of boredom he might experience.
“Toys!” Dad sighed. “And I don’t even have a book.”
“I just want to dump them out of their bag!” Sam proceeded to get into the tent. As he opened the door he was considerate enough to ask. “Dad, can I wipe my feet on your bed?”
“No!” Dad replied, reeling with shock.
“Can I wipe them on Andrew’s bed?”
“No!”
“Okay,” The cheerful camper shrugged. “I’ll just wipe them on my bed.” He entered the tent and walked across every bed in his path until he came to his bed, where he solemnly wiped his feet on the blanket.
The fun had only started. When at last all were in the tent and attempting to sleep (quite late, because Andrew fished until 12:30 or something like that) my poor father was still unable to catch any decent shut-eye because Sam and Joel (Joel is 12) began carrying on a conversation in their sleep. I hear that they do this frequently, even at home.
Andrew was up and fishing again by one of the ungodly hours before dawn.
The problem with boys—and it isn’t really a problem, just a way of life for now—before and during college is that they like to eat. LOVE to eat is probably more accurate. With that said, most of them don’t care what they’re eating as long as something fills that void in their stomach and legs. So the fine men in our family ate—for breakfast, mind you—cold bologna and chips.
There are many things in life that I like to think I would have the grace and poise to handle, no matter how gruesome. Bologna and chips for breakfast is not one of them. I would be very polite, but I would decline on the grounds of “not hungry” and beg for coffee. One problem. There was no coffee on this camping trip. My coffee-loving Dad survived, but the next time the boys want to take him camping they are going to have specific instructions about the provisions and if they forget coffee, somebody just might be hiking out to the gas station at 6:30 in the morning.
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