My youngest son, Godzilla, left for his first ever Boy Scout Camp on Saturday. I so miss my boy!
What you have to know about us is that we are a Boy Scouting family. And the thing about Godzilla is since he can remember, he has always wanted to be a Boy Scout. Big Tuna started his scouting career as a Tiger Cub in 1st grade. Baby Godzilla made his first Scout camping trip when he was 10 months old, in November, in 40 degree temperatures. When Big Tuna moved up into Boy Scouts from Cub Scouts, Godzilla quickly became the Troop’s mascot:). In some cases, Godzilla outperformed a few scouts on outings, etc. Cub Scouts all but bored Godzilla because, well, he had gone beyond the basics by the time he joined Cub Scouts.
As you may recall, Godzilla finally crossed over into Boy Scouts this past spring. One of the annual Boy Scout events is a week at Boy Scout camp. Our Scout Council has a BSA camp located about 2 hours away from where we live. Just think about it. Boy Scout camp. For one week. Seven days. Six nights. In southeastern NC. In the summer. With daily temps 90-100 degrees. With daily humidity at about 100%. With yellow-flies that are so big they can carry you off. Not to mention their bite feels like a needle sticking into you. Just keep those thoughts in the back of your mind:).
On Sunday (Father’s Day), the Troop left for Camp. Seeing how this would be Godzilla’s first official camp, we made plans so that Captain Daddy and Big Tuna (both Assistant Scoutmasters) would be up there pretty much the whole time to keep an eye on the boy.
The “Happy Campers” checking into camp.
Now, Wednesday evening is the “Family Night.” Basically, that is when the camp kitchen staff have the night off, so families come up to feed their troops. This is a good-bad situation in a torture-like way. It is good because you get to see your Scout doing scout stuff. You get to witness how “grown up” your son has become in less than a few days. It is good because your son for the first time in his life now really, really appreciates you, and home. Which brings me to the torture part. It is bad because your now grown-up Scout sees his Mama and no longer wants to be a Scout. No longer wants to be a grown-up Scout, but wants to be your little (baby) boy. All he wants to do is to climb into that air conditioned vehicle and go home. And he will stop at nothing to accomplish his goal. Unless, you are a veteran Scout Mama.
I must admit I was rather “surprised” at Godzilla’s appearance on Wednesday. You can’t tell it, but his legs are covered in nasty, horrible, oozing bug-bites and his feet are covered in blisters. This veteran Scout Mama was ready to scoop her baby into her arms and whisk him home to doctor his pain and wait on him hand and foot. Godzilla must have sensed my guard down because the first thing he said to me was “I want to go home.” I spent most of the evening trying to sound very grown-up when we had that “we’ve had this conversation before you left” conversation. I promised him the moon and stars for his return home on Saturday. I loved on him as best I could without giving in.
For the record, I wasn’t the only parent doing this:).
Before we left, Captain Daddy doctored him up and put him to bed. Captain Daddy is to return back to camp on Friday. I made him promise to bring Godzilla right home if his legs/bug bites aren’t better.
I miss my boy. The girls miss their brother. We are used to Big Tuna being away on trips for weeks at a time. We aren’t used to Godzilla being gone so long.