Tuesday, June 20, 2017

Boy Scouts are stinky after a week at camp

I did a good job last week not saying anything about how Hubby and Boy-Child were gone all week long at Boy Scout camp in North Carolina.  It was just me, and Girl-Child, and I didn't want to give any creepers an opportunity to...well...be creepy. So everyone is home now and my world has returned to semi-normal.

When my boys are gone, and especially when Hubby is gone, I do not sleep well. The first night they were gone I was up practically all night. I think I finally fell asleep around 2:30 and was up again around 5:15. I remember seriously considering just throwing it to the wind and skipping church, but Girl-Child had to perform her Acolyte duties at the 11AM service, and it was Promotion Sunday (the day the kids who are rising grades move into their new classrooms; Girl-Child was moving up to YOUTH!) so we had to go to church.  I think I managed not to act like a zombie, but I sure felt like one.

Then, Sunday night, I let Girl-Child sleep in bed with me. But she kick and hogs the bed. She claims I steal covers, but whether I did or not (I claim not), I figure it's just desserts for only having 1/4 of the queen size bed. How a 10 year old can take up so much room is beyond me. She actually put her feet into the small of my back at one point and pushed. That was when I got up, shoved her over and said, "You have to move, or you're going back to your own room." She reluctantly relinquished a few scant inches and I climbed back in. Needless to say, on Monday night, she was back in her own bed.

So, you may be wondering what in the world I did with Girl-Child while I was at work all week? Well, I have wonderful, amazing, giving friends. One of whom graciously agreed to take her on all week. Not just to keep her at her home and keep her safe, but she fed her, did fun stuff, and was even up waaaay earlier than normal just to receive her at the door. I cannot express how much it meant to not only know that my girl was safe, but that she was with someone I trust implicitly. We were even invited to dinner on Tuesday night, which was a repast beyond expectation. Seriously, grilled steak and chicken, steamed broccoli, baked potatoes, grilled shrimp on skewers; wine. It was yum! They kept Girl-child overnight on Wednesday night - so I didn't see her from Wednesday morning until I got off of work on Thursday night. (A long time alone; and it was weird. I didn't really know what to do with myself.)

Oh, and I broke a toe kicking a chair. I didn't kick the chair on purpose; it did nothing wrong. My foot slipped as I tried to push my chair back and away from the dinner table, kicked the leg of another chair which was occupied. My toe was not was simply not enough force to make that chair move, so my toe went CRUNCH! And I went YIPE! Yes, yes - I assured my gracious hosts - I'm perfectly fine. I finished inner with grace and aplomb, hobbled to my car later, and went home to nurse my swollen, purple toe. It feels better now, but YOWIE! I don't like breaking toes. I've done it before and it hurts, by golly! It's much better now; a week later. But still twinges if I step wrong.  The swelling and bruising is mostly gone, except for a couple of spots. I expect I'll live to see another day.

The week passed slowly, with little decent sleep, and then it was Saturday and my boys were coming home! Girl-Child and I went to the Lavender Festival and had a blast. Picked up a Father's Day gift for Hubby, looked at all kinds of fun stuff, ate Italian Ice before lunch, bought a new outfit for her doll whom she adores (we get a new one every year; they're handmade by the vendor), I got a henna tattoo on my hand, Girl-Child filled a sand necklace, made a card for her daddy for Father's day, we saw lots of people we know and love. Then we went to visit some of our animal friends during an adoption event. And suddenly, it was time to go welcome the boys home!

Girl-Child made a sign - WELCOME HOME TROOP 129 - and we held it up street-side and waved furiously as the big yellow bus full of tired and stinky scouts rumbled back into the church parking lot. There was loud beeping and excitement and both Hubby and Boy-Child were pleased with their warm welcome.

I'm glad to have my boys home. We're back to our usual daily chaos, which, as much as the chaos makes me absolutely CRAZY, I miss it when it's not there.


PS: Remind me to tell you about the time Boy-Child sliced open his hand and finger with a knife. That's a good story. (Ugh.) File it under, "At Least He Didn't Die," or "It Couldda Been Worse."

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