From Matthew's blog
In our church, usually
around the time of the yearly Priesthood Commemoration, we have a father's and
son's campout at a nearby campsite. I've taken my son twice--I think we were
sick last year unfortunately.
This year, however, we were both healthy and ready to go hang out, play with the fire, and get virtually no sleep. I think the older I get the more my body needs my bed to get a proper nights' rest. Anyway, we started off the adventure with canoes. The boy got bored in about one spin around the pond. Seeing as how I have to all the rowing, I can't honestly say I was broken up about that. I think the fact people were catching salamanders out of the pond had something to do with his enthusiasm for dry land.
I'm not huge on touching wet, slimy things. Especially when they wriggle. My son dived right in and probably would have played with the salamanders the entire time had I let him. I'll have to remember to bring hand sanitizer with me next time because I'm pretty sure his hands were disgusting. That's camping right?
After peeling him away from the dock and the wriggling mass, we headed down to the fire. He perked up upon seeing the cheery blaze. He started out timidly poking a stick in here and there, and then it was all I could do to keep him from setting himself on fire. Anything and everything was combustible. He got so dirty he looked like a coal miner--and I'm not joking. I had to get some baby wipes from the car and wipe his face off just to be sure I could identify him in a crowd.
This year, however, we were both healthy and ready to go hang out, play with the fire, and get virtually no sleep. I think the older I get the more my body needs my bed to get a proper nights' rest. Anyway, we started off the adventure with canoes. The boy got bored in about one spin around the pond. Seeing as how I have to all the rowing, I can't honestly say I was broken up about that. I think the fact people were catching salamanders out of the pond had something to do with his enthusiasm for dry land.
I'm not huge on touching wet, slimy things. Especially when they wriggle. My son dived right in and probably would have played with the salamanders the entire time had I let him. I'll have to remember to bring hand sanitizer with me next time because I'm pretty sure his hands were disgusting. That's camping right?
After peeling him away from the dock and the wriggling mass, we headed down to the fire. He perked up upon seeing the cheery blaze. He started out timidly poking a stick in here and there, and then it was all I could do to keep him from setting himself on fire. Anything and everything was combustible. He got so dirty he looked like a coal miner--and I'm not joking. I had to get some baby wipes from the car and wipe his face off just to be sure I could identify him in a crowd.
He used my sleeping bag
during the night as I'd purchased a new one. At some point, he had moved down
into the bottom third of the bag, and I guess woke up and wanted to get out. I
heard him say "Ah! I'm stuck!" I got up and pulled him up through the
bag to find his pillow. Sleep resumed--for him anyway.
We had breakfast the next morning put on by the Stake Presidency. They did fabulously. Then we did a service project, and came home. It was a good trip. My son is a good camper and exemplifies all that it means to be a dirt-loving, salamander-grabbing, pyromania-cal, little boy.
We had breakfast the next morning put on by the Stake Presidency. They did fabulously. Then we did a service project, and came home. It was a good trip. My son is a good camper and exemplifies all that it means to be a dirt-loving, salamander-grabbing, pyromania-cal, little boy.
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