Last Saturday, we piled all the kids into Papa’s boat, because it was hot enough that people were spontaneously combusting outside. It was a day to either hug your air conditioning units tightly or head for the water.
I missed my calling as a waitress, because Grammy had me take everyone’s sandwich order before we left, and I had that food ticket down to a science.
Turkey. No mayo. Mustard.
BLT. No tomato.
The Everything Sandwich. Extra mustard. Extra jalapenos.
I presented her with a list that I’d typed up on my iPhone, because technology has given us the opportunity to write notes to ourselves on handheld phones. My 1988 self just clapped a little, because LIVING LIKE THE JETSONS, people! Grammy looked at that list and said, “Let’s order about twice that many sandwiches.”
Because do you know what I wasn’t taking into consideration?
Teenage boys and pre-teen children on a boat, after playing in the water all day. Our pack of kids pounced on those deli sandwiches like Great White sharks, who are capable of biting off forty pounds of meat in a single swoop. Had the sandwich ordering been completely left to me, I would have had mutiny on the ship, as the starving children cornered me, with every intention of having me walk the plank, because WHY DIDN’T YOU ORDER MORE SANDWICHES FOR US TO EAT?
We did a little cruising around the lake. We ate the sandwiches and the chips and the cookies on the boat, and let me tell you this: For some reason, food tastes BETTER at lakes and in the mountains. I don’t know the science behind that as to WHY… but it just does.
Thing 2, true to the way he’s always done it, ate the filling out of six Oreo cookies and left the actual cookie parts behind. He’s a JUST THE FILLING, PLEASE kind of kid.
Thankfully, with teenage boys on deck, the cookie parts found homes in hungry stomachs.
The boys all fished, while I snapped pictures and tried to keep my camera dry.
Eventually, part of the sailors decided that they’d like to be put ashore to frolic on the beach, while some of the kids wanted to keep fishing off of the boat with Hubs and Papa. Papa docked the boat and a handful of the cousins disembarked.
Of course, they all asked if there were any more sandwiches left before they got off the boat.
Even after Grammy was smart enough to double the sandwich order, those ravenous children, who had been out on the water and in the water for half of the day were still making inquiries into forgotten BLTs tucked somewhere into a corner of the boat.
Grammy and I headed to the beach, too, where we played the part of the Baywatch Babes / lifeguards. We reapplied sunscreen, made sure everyone was hydrated, gave instructions to the shortest ones to PLEASE THROW THE ROCKS AWAY FROM PEOPLE, AND NOT IN THE DIRECTION OF PEOPLE, clapped like lunatics for successful rock skipping contest winners, judged sand castle entries in Construction With Sand contests, gave warnings when the shortest ones were TOO FAR OUT, while we encouraged them TO COME RIGHT BACK TO SHORE NOW, discussed the importance of knowing the dangers of tsunamis and gave everyone instructions to watch out for sharks because it was Shark Week.
You can never be too careful, even when it’s a freshwater lake in a landlocked state.
The kids played the part of Happy Children at the Lake on a Really Hot Day to perfection.
The boys all helped Papa and Hubs get the boat loaded onto the trailer and out of the water. Everyone dried off and found cold water bottles from the cooler, and we headed for home.
And then THIS happened on the way back into town:
The one that happens accidentally, when a parent isn’t looking.
The one that can ruin a bedtime completely.
Thankfully, we woke that toddler back up in the car. He was a bit groggy and physically exhausted, but he talked to us until we got home…
… where he ate a homemade sandwich and passed out cold in his bed until 7:00 the next morning, which had NEVER, EVER happened at our house before. Hubs and I felt like we’d slept until noon, when we realized that the clock said 7 AM!
Y’all have a merry weekend.