The idea behind a campout is that we take a temporary home with us, setting it up in a forest and staying there for a night or two. Without that little element, it’s a day trip.
But what if you forget something? No, not the tent. The tent arrived with us safe and sound in the trunk. Along with the sleeping bags, air mattresses, camera, water-and-snack bag, shoes, Class A uniform, and cell phone. What didn’t make it? Our backpack filled with clothes. And toiletries. And flashlights.
K called just as we were crossing into North Carolina.
“Where are you?”
“We’re still on our way, just crossing into North Carolina.”
A long pause.
“Because you forgot the backpack with everything in it.”
I’d so meticulously packed everything, taking care to plan for all eventualities — long sleeves for sleeping, a jacket for the morning, extra contact lenses for me, extra everything — and double-checking that I had everything. And then I didn’t double-check that I had everything in the car.
We made plans: perhaps friends were coming and they could bring the bag. Nope, not this year. Perhaps the den leader knew of someone who was coming later and they could bring the bag that K would take over to them. Nope. In the end, we decided to wait a few hours and see. If the Boy wanted to stay, K and I could meet halfway, making it only an hour-and-a-half round trip for both of us. If not, we’d just go home after the evening’s bonfire.
As often happens, the Boy was reticent to engage with the other boys at first. He clung to my side for the first half hour or so. Eventually, he joined in.
It’s a common theme for the Boy. He likes to watch from the periphery for a while, check out what’s going on, see who’s who. I think he gets it from me. K just dives in — she’s one of the most socially fearless people I’ve ever met. I’m a bit more cautious, and whether by example or genetics, the Boy has gotten that from me.
Once he felt comfortable, once he joined in with a couple of boys from his den, I didn’t see him all that much during the free play times. He was a totally transformed boy, and his chattiness and silliness took hold, for once he’s figured out the what’s going on, he chats with everyone. He used to chat with players on the opposing soccer team during games, for heaven’s sake, so perhaps he’s a mix of K and me.
After games, we went for a den hike. Four boys from the den were there, four fathers as well, along with a big sister.
Mr. B, the den master, taught the kids about a few plants and trees, helped them find insects, discussed the possibility of fish living in the pond we were walking beside, and explained to the boys what was on tap for the evening.
“In the evening, we’ll be having a flag retirement ceremony and a little variety show,” Mr. B explained. “We’ll have to prepare a skit for tonight’s show.”
I’d already talked to the Boy about the flag ceremony. Last year he’d been disturbed by the fact that the scouts were burning flags.
This year, we talked about it several times before the event, so he was not nearly as worried. This year was different as well because there were so many flags for retirement that every scout received a flag to put on the fire.
After the ceremony and the skit, the Boy and I headed home.
“I definitely need a shower when we get home,” E proclaimed, but I knew with an hour and a half trip ahead of us, there was little chance of him being awake when we got there. And indeed, by the time we were ten minutes out, he was fast asleep.