The two biggest boys were busy this evening, checking their scout hand books and deciding what to pack for the big camp out tonight. They have a check list in their books and I laughed so hard when Q read, “stakes for the tent” and interpreted it as MEAT steaks. I personally do not know what they actually packed. I know a soccer ball was involved and I had to remind Sheldon to pack pajamas. Who knows if the pajamas actually made it into the bag. Not my problem.
Shel was not sure he wanted to camp out. He was worried about his privacy. He is the one who does not want to get married because he doesn’t like kissing strangers. It was hard for him to warm up to the idea of being around strangers while he sleeps. Ironic, since he was the one who almost forgot pajamas.
Since Derrick was running the show, they left with an ice chest full of snacks. I think they forgot flashlights though. Priorities! Luckily the camp out is at a local high school, so as long as the sprinklers don’t turn on, I think they’ll survive. Meanwhile I spent the evening reading Agatha Christie. I have to say I sort of love Cub Scouts so far.
Today was also Fair Field Trip day. I was at the fair for two hours and IT WAS EXHAUSTING. I try to like fairs, but I don’t. Since my parents have a farm we have easy access to things like chickens and horses. What is left? Art work and fruit. And Fair Food.
I want to like Fair Food. Today I bought three ice cream cones for about 20 dollars. It made me hate fair food. I also saw MANY people carrying around a solid BRICK of curly fries. That looked delicious. I thought, “well, since it’s only once a year maybe I would like 12 pounds of curly fries too.”
BUT NOT FOR NINE DOLLARS. That is how much a brick of curly fries at the fair costs. Nine. Dollars.
Tonight Tobin asked me sweetly, “What is 11 plus 11 plus 11 plus 11?” and I happily answered “Forty four!”
“HA! Eleven I Win!” he announced with a cackle. This pretty much sums up my parenting experience. I think I have all the answers, and then I am wrong. Or I am right but everyone tells me I am wrong. Or 12 pounds of curly fries cost nine dollars and I am back to square one. I guess on some level, we are all eight years old still, reading the instruction manual of life and wondering why we need steak at a camp out.
I’m fine with that. I like adventures.