So now that second son has returned from camp ~ (and NO, he did NOT need that excessive extra pair of underwear that I insisted he bring. Nor did he need shampoo, toilet paper or his sense of smell. Obviously.) ~ and third son has now gone, taking along for the trip one (1) forced pair of extra under-britches for HIS week long camp. And here's a fun piece of news...if the boys are to be believed~and why would they lie?~after incredulous discussion, this filthy habit is APPARENTLY NOTHING UNIQUE TO WEEK LONG SCOUT CAMPS! Nope. Just a day in the life of two teenaged pigs. I mean boys.
APPARENTLY THEY OFT and REPEATEDLY PUT ON THE SAME WHIZ DRIBBLED PAIR OF UNDIES...wearing them for days at a time...because, get this, they don't have enough of them to maintain a daily exchange schedule...and their MOTHER won't buy them more.
She is to blame.
Because she is an underwear miser.
Anyway, here's another fun one. Last night, during a carefully orchestrated swear-fest and finger point session with second son, third son was busy in the other room trying to pass out. And what do you know? He succeeded. GOOD FOR HIM!
After his own personal "radio in his head" techno music jam session caused by dying brain cells, he awoke to realize that he had no recollection of most of the day's happenings, which sent him into a full-on adrenaline surge of fight or flight. He chose flight, rushing from one room to the next, doing algebraic equations in his head to prove that he was going to be OK.
When none of them could be solved, he came flying into our bedroom where the point and swear had just finished up and thought it safe to mention he might be dying. It went something like this...
"Mom and Dad, um, OK, so I thought it would be fun to kind of try to make myself, um, like sort of, um like hold my breath until I passed out? cuz that's what I've done before, like when I was in elementary and stuff and everything was OKAY THEN, BUT NOW, UM, LIKE NOW?...LIKE NOW I CAN'T REALLY REMEMBER ANYTHING, OR LIKE WHAT'S TODAY? IS IT SUNDAY? IS IT? CUZ I DON'T REALLY KNOW WHAT I'M DOING HERE AND IS TOMORROW MY CAMP? IT USED TO BE SUNNY AND NOW IT'S NIGHT TIME AND I DON'T REMEMBER IF...IS TOMORROW MY CAMP? WHERE'S MY LIST? CUZ I CAN'T FIND IT AND I DON'T KNOW HOW LONG I WAS PASSED OUT AND MY HEAD HURTS, AND NOW I'M REALLY REALLY REALLY SCARED! DID WE HAVE ROAST BEEF FOR DINNER? CUZ I CAN'T REMEMBER WHAT I ATE! WHAT DID I HAVE FOR DINNER? WAS IT...DID I EVEN EAT DINNER? WHAT TIME IS IT? IS IT SUNDAY? IS IT? CUZ I DON'T REALLY KNOW WHAT I'M DOING AND I TRIED TO PACK FOR MY CAMP OUT, BUT THEN I COULDN'T REMEMBER WHERE MY LIST WAS AND I THINK SOMETHING'S REALLY WRONG! I'M REALLY SCARED! I'M REALLY REALLY REALLY SCARED! I THINK I MIGHT BE DYING!!!(WEEP, SOB, HOWL, CROC TEARS) PLEEEEASE HEEEEELPP MEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!
So I responded (accused) with~
"WHY IN THE CRAP DID YOU HOLD YOUR BREATH AND TRY TO PASS OUT!"
Because I live by the motto, "What would Jesus do?"
And then I do the opposite.
(footnote~he didn't die.)