When you make a boy a promise
… you keep it, even if it’s raining and the National Weather Service issues a flood warning for your county. After all, the tent isn’t next to a creek and the pond’s not going to overflow.
Because the girls were at camp this week and we wanted to give the boy-child some extra-special parental attention without his older sisters in the mix, my husband promised him a ‘Boys Only Campout’. He contacted cousins and asked to borrow the pond for a night. The boy loaded fishing poles and tackle boxes, and the man grabbed a tent, sleeping bags and firewood. They stockpiled hot dogs and Fritos for supper, and eggs and jalapeno trail bologna for breakfast.
They built a fire — essential for any and all outdoor recreational activities, did some fishing and then … well, then the black clouds rolled in and the heavens poured forth and it rained and rained and rained. Just before that happened, though, they erected a canopy over the tent. And with full bellies and the sound of the rain on their roof, they crawled inside and proceeded to have manly discussions.
And they were not pleased when I drove over to see if they needed anything or wanted to come home. Because it was raining like cats and dogs you see, and there’s nothing more miserable than sleeping in a sodden tent when your house is over the hill.
They assured me things were perfectly fine and I should commence my own evening alone. Boys Only Campouts do not welcome wives and mothers, apparently. So I left the boys and their discourse in the rain and went home.
I made the most of my quiet freedom by folding laundry and watching the new episode of Farm Kings. Lest you think I’ve forgotten how to have a good time, I enjoyed a slice of leftover pizza and finished off the remains of a bottle of wine that’s been sitting in the fridge for a week. Then I stayed up way too late looking at the beautiful people, places and things on Pinterest.
I know what you’re thinking.
“Boy does she know how to par-tay when the cat’s away!”
Don’t be jealous.