My sisters and I took our boys camping this weekend. The car was so packed I had to throw out any dead weight, and that included Kevin who, in true computer nerd fashion, is allergic to everything outdoors and who doesn’t understand why people go camping in an era when houses have been invented. So he stayed home and, I assume, sat near one of the vents in the house staring at a wall until we all came home.
Still, I tried to make it seem like Kevin was camping with us by making comments he would have made if he were there. He likes to pick on Jnet because she’s a vegetarian, so when we were all eating hot dogs around the campfire and Jnet instead was eating a cucumber and hummus bun, I offered to pick her some grass to go along with it. And when I went to put away the tofu dogs she had brought I asked if it was okay to put them in the same bag as the real hot dogs. She said it was and I said, “Okay. I thought you might be worried the tofu dogs would touch the real hot dogs and accidentally pick up some flavor.” And when Jnet was assembling a plate of food on the ground and my other sister, Michelle, said, “What are you doing down on the ground?!” I explained that this is just how vegetarians eat—they graze like that.
Kevin can be so insensitive, can’t he?
We camped on Bainbridge Island and the boys spent 80% of their waking hours on the beach. They made a shop and started up some kind of a bartering system and basically played “Economics” all weekend.
Not to brag, but this was my contribution to the store. It’s called the Rainbow Collection. You probably can’t afford it.
Aunt Shel bought the boys all their own planes to decorate, complete with stickers and all.
As you can see, not all the boys are equally gifted in following directions.
The kids logged enough hours flying these planes to earn at least a temporary pilot’s license!
I don’t know how to explain the goggles, so just go with it. Many of our campfire stories ended with a goggle-clad ghost coming back to haunt the Fay Bainbridge State Campground, though.
The weekend was chock full of laughs and memories, blue heron watching, dead batteries, tent swapping, tire swinging, last minutes sprints to the ferry, injured feet, song singing, eagle sightings, ranger talks, instant coffee, S’mores eating, and splurging on fifty-cent, three-minute showers.
All in all, we had a wheelie good time. Ba-dum-bum.
But as wonderful as it was to spend a weekend adventuring, nothing beats the feeling of coming home.
WHAT’S COOKIN’ 2NITE:
Tequila lime flank steak
Roasted asparagus with balsamic and lemon