When I was a boy, I was very active in the Boy Scouts. To find me packing for a camping trip was not a surprising discovery as our Boy Scout Troop camped once per month. I enjoyed being surrounded by Mother Nature to meditate in her awe-inspiring beauty. These trips allowed me to escape the troublesome topics of my childhood and let me contemplate conundrums as they arose. I would, of course, have everything resolved in a weekend like a TV sitcom.
At one of our Scout meetings, our leaders said that we would be inviting moms on a moms camping trip. The scoutmasters wanted the moms to see what their sons did and how their boys lived on a camping trip. We were advised to share with our moms that they will be staying in the camp lodge. We were warned that the boys would be cooking one meal of foil dinners for the moms. How scary and exciting this adventure would be for us as well as our moms.
As I packed, I suppose that I was in my own little world, although others might simply say that I was oblivious to everything. None the less I had a camping preparation procedure making packing a very systematic endeavor. I knew that every time that a certain father went camping with us, it was guaranteed to rain. Since this dad was going camping that weekend, this meant that bad packers would have to work with wet woes. I had been in the scouts for several years by then and could not make errors like that. I had to stand out as a positive example for the new boys.
My buddy, Mike’s mom, was driving the four of us, both of the mothers, Mike and me down to the camp for the weekend. When Mike and his mom showed up, I loaded my pack into the trunk. When Mike’s mom, Sandy, saw my mom’s overnight bag, she posed a query. “Where are your camping stuff and sleeping bag?” she questioned. My mom explained that she did not need it because they were staying in a lodge. Like a petulant little girl who does not want to wear her shoes for the day my mom was sent back inside. She was told to at least get a couple of blankets and towels, and without the dramatic stomping, she complied. Little did my mom know what she was in for.
As we arrived at the camp, Mike and I grabbed our gear full of sleeping bags, clothes, and other necessities. We then began our campsite preparation process, looking for a spot to set up all of the tents for our patrol. There was also a requirement to find the correct location for the campfire. We were genuinely unaware of the chaos that the mothers were battling.
All of the mothers arrived to see the retired rickety Boy Scout camp first aid lodge. This lodge was where they would be living for the next three days and two nights. They walked in to find some rusted old hospital style beds complete with plastic covered mattresses from the 1970s. There was a nice layer of thick green mold in the sink to protect any dishes that they may drop. There was also a chunky coating of blue-green mold in the tub to protect anyone who fell while showering. The lodge had running water because outside it rained significantly, the roof was punctured severely, and the ceiling leaked profusely.
My mother was horrified as she was ill-prepared mentally or gear wise to deal with this ludicrous lodging. The moms came to a consensus to sleep on top of the mattresses on the cement floor. This idea was questionable because the floor had a small stream from all of the rain. No wonder the other mothers were smirking behind her back. Well, at least she brought a blanket and her pajamas. It would be an extremely long weekend.
The scouts moved through the next day as the mothers conversed and contemplated everything that they observed. The boys demonstrated doing dishes and other daily duties on a camping trip. They also displayed the patrol boxes and explained everything that each patrol had in their box and what they could do with its contents.
Saturday night for dinner, the boys made foil dinners for the moms. These foil packets had a hamburger patty along with cut veggies and sliced potatoes. Then the foil packs were salted, sealed tightly, and placed on hot coals to cook for 30 to 45 minutes. The moms appreciated coming to the campsite to get a hot meal and not having to clean up afterword. Although they were getting used to their new sleeping quarters, no meal cleanup took the sting out of the dilapidated conditions. The moms were delighted and proud to see their sons in their element. They later enjoyed the activities around the campfire that evening.
The mom’s campout was fun for the moms and the sons alike. The boys got some unforgettable and hilarious stories that we can tell our friends and children for the rest of our lives. My mom was the best because she gave us a list of funny material that would last well into our adulthood.
Clarify and verify by questioning everything.