Today was one of those days when I just waved goodbye to my house at the crack of GOOD MORNING, and it welcomed me back home just before dinnertime.
I had sort of hoped that the little cleaning fairies, who never made it into a Disney movie, but who REALLY DO exist, would flutter in through the chimney and wave their wands and sprinkle their glitter and tidy things up while I was gone. Apparently the robin, who is raising her family in a nest on the vent to our fireplace, growled at the fairies and sent them packing, before they could even manage to sneak inside.
And to think that I suffered through drizzle and rain and cold spring weather without turning my gas fireplace on a single time, because the Mrs. was sitting on her eggs and WHO AM I TO HARD BOIL THEM BEFORE THE BABIES HAVE ARRIVED?!
We met the boy’s buddy, Ben, in Smaller Town, USA before most people had downed their coffee this morning. Ben is going to be at camp all week with the boy, and since he was coming from Small Ranching Community, Smaller Town was a good spot for us to meet his mama and snag him from her.
Ben came with a lot of baggage.
And by a lot of baggage, I mean that not many nineteen-year-old girls come home from their freshman year at college with more bags and accessories than Ben brought today for his week at summer camp.
Just to give you an idea of what he brought, Ben packed a sombrero for the week.
And also a bear skin.
He is fully prepared for any Mexican dancing that happens outside when the temperature falls.
When we returned from Smaller Town this morning, I dumped the boys off at my house, and I ran off for a quick coffee date with the girls. I had a cream-cheese-and-raisin scone that was so dry, I felt like I’d been licking sand for six weeks when I left the coffee shop. But, the company was good, and we girls laughed our heads off, so it didn’t matter that I couldn’t work up a single droplet of saliva for the next four hours.
And then I zipped back home, where Ben and the boy piled all of their camping equipment into the back of the truck, and then we pulled into our neighbor’s driveway, so that we could load up Andrew and HIS bags and fishing pole.
These three future 8th graders would never make it on a survival show where they could only bring a pocket knife and their imagination, because I took enough weight up the mountain that I was concerned I’d have to stop at the port of entry and show the paperwork on the load I was hauling.
As soon as the boys checked into their cabin, they began unpacking and setting up house. The boys immediately jumped to make up their bunks with their sleeping bags and their extra blankets and… well… their bear skins, providing that they brought such luxuries with them.
The lower altitude at home does not permit him to remember the lost art of hospital corners.
Often enough, the lower altitude at home causes the boy to forget that he can even make a bed, PERIOD.
I caught a little glimpse this afternoon of the hope that maybe the boy will be able to survive in the wild without me when he goes to Harvard, just so long as his roommate in the dorms can remind him to brush his teeth twice a day.
After the beds were made up well enough to pass inspection at Buckingham Palace, the pack of boys in the cabin began establishing a social hierarchy by seeing who could do pullups off the ceiling beam.
According to this act of Manhood Establishment, Ben and the boy will be Cabin Kings for the week, because they could both do approximately one thousand pullups before their biceps gave out. Honestly, I had NO IDEA! JUST NO IDEA! that my son could literally spend an entire afternoon counting off pullups and outdoing his cabin mates by a score of nine hundred and eighty-seven.
Of course, before the boys could shove me back into the truck and demand to be left on the mountaintop as MINORS UNACCOMPANIED BY THEIR PARENTS, I made them stand on the cabin’s front porch for a picture… or ten.
The boy’s orthodontist and Hubs and I all fear that teeth won’t be brushed all week.
I’m betting that when we pick our son up in a week, he’ll be in the same outfit he wore today.
But… they’ve got their Bibles, and they’re prepared to learn more about Jesus’ love for them. Their cabin counselor looks like one fired-up, college-aged Christian guy, who will be taking care of his troop of ten boys all week and praying daily with them and for them. The boys are ready to fish and hike and let the makers of Tide and Cheer know that neither of them will be able to get their clothes clean when they come back home.
And… I hope their cabin counselor can hold that bear skin to his nose, as he lives in that cabin of ten UNSHOWERED teenage boys for seven days.