Stream of conscious rambling from a sleep deprived nurse with English degree leanings. Either that or the psychological trait known as flight of ideas...it's a toss up.
17 July 2009
I spent my day at WEBELOS camp with FB. I'm not a "joiner" per se. If I could get away with turning FB loose with his scouting book...well, he wouldn't get badge one, but I'd be much happier. Today happened to be the hottest day I've experienced in quite some time. Which makes spending a day with eight 10 year old boys like spending a day in the seventh ring of hell. First the only thing worse than a 10 year old boy is a 12 year old boy. They are crazy, hyper and stinky. And my own personal 10 year old is hitting the "tweens" harder than anyone in history. He is 5 feet tall, 130 pounds, and has more mood swings than Sybil has personalities. I mean DAY-UM. One minute he's my happy go lucky little guy, the next he's this sulking, hulking mass of discontent and swirling hormones. I'm either going to survive this through sheer willpower, or I'm going to take him out to the woods and let him be raised by wolves. Second, this day camp takes place in the only treeless spot in the Pacific Northwest. Add a daytime temperature in the 90s (wtf? this is the PacNW people! It's against the law to get that hot here!!!) and it was like traversing Mauna Loa's lava flow. In flip-flops. The honey bucket was an experience in itself; if you managed to complete your duties without your cell phone falling into the swill, you might get light headed from the smell and the fact that the inside of this sucker felt like you were in Cool Hand Luke and just got a night in the box. I spent all day watching activities, riding herd on a passel of hormones, forcing fluids onto pre-teens, and walking around with a soaked shirt and a damp crotch...and not in a good way. The boys got some relief from a sprinkler the camp leader put out as well as standing in the spray of the fire hose from the department next door to this piece of hell on earth. Unfortunately, FB was wearing cut-off jeans and the effect of a day of damp denim (obstacle course anyone?) chafed to the point where he walked as if he had the largest case of jock itch known to man. Live and learn I guess.
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All I have to say is OUCH.
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