Background (March-ish):
Typically at church I remain very quiet (refering to Priesthood opening exersizes). But when Whit and I moved here to Springfield, I was pretty quick to make my mad camping skills known throughout the ward. I mean lets be honest, my camping skills are comparable to Lebron's skills on the bball court. I don't know why but I have just been blessed with this gift, to be at one with nature and to have an innate ability to understand the camping way of life. All things camping just come to me.
The Story (Present time):
Friday my trusty Father in Law and I picked up four boys. Joseph age 12, TJ age 10, John age 8, and Zach age 5/6. We also had Derek on board. We drove about an hour to Table Rock Lake, near Branson. We packed the Envoy so full I felt like I was going to sell pest control again packing up the Taurus with stuff everywhere. Stuff at your feet, on your lap, stuff on your side as a pillow. I didn't even have it that bad, it was the two little boys that you could barely see their little eye balls they were burried so deep. You know stuff...camping stuff...sleeping bags, tents, marshmellows, footballs, pillows, liter fluid, hatchets, fishing polls, lawn chairs, etc.It was the weekend every boy looks forward to all year long, the father and son campout. We arrived Friday evening and set up camp.
The next day we had a vegan breakfast, which was interesting, not your typical father and son campout breakfast, at least not where I come from. Then we headed down to the lake. Swimming, rafting, boating, fishing, and of course lots of peeing in the lake. Yes that's right, on multiple occasions this scenario played out...
Here is Joseph in front of his tent.
Left to Right, here is John, TJ and Zach and their tent.
Here is my tent, pretty must the sweetest tent a man can have. I mean what is not manly about this tent? Nothing. I think the length of time that a man has had his tent says a lot about him. I mean who wants to be that guy that stopped at the store on his way to the camp out and bought a tent? Not me. My tent and I are going on 8 years (its hard to believe, time flys).
The evening festivities included: Words from President Chandler, roasting hot dogs, marshmellows, smores, starbursts (Thanks Les, delicious), camp fire man talk, a plethora of trips to the restroom for the little guys, a little football, and just hanging out.
After the boys all fell asleep (which took about 3 hours), Rich, Gus and I just did our manly thing hangin' by the fire. Derek was also there for part of that until he went off playing capture the flag with his posse (spelling?).
Zach: "Evan, I have to go to the bathroom, REAL BAD!!!"
Evan: "Okay, no problem, lets walk on up to the restroom."
Zach: "No, Evan, I have to go to the bathroom...NOW."
Evan: "Okay, just go in the lake then."
Zach: "uhhh..." (Zach swiftly runs to the lake gets in maybe up to his ankles, drops his swim shorts, and bam. He goes to the bathroom inches away from where his buddies are swimming. To say the least, he cleared the area fairly quickly.)
The situation repeated four times throughout the day.
Then we broke camp and headed home. Of course stopping at the golden arches on the way home for lunch.
Lessons learned: Be careful what you ask for. Camping still rocks, but rocks a little less with allergies, don't let young boys drink 3 soda's in about a 10 minute time period, be descriptive with your bathroom instructions, and never go camping with little guys without backup (Richard and Derek).