Last week was the 3rd Annual Dick family Vacation to Black Lake NY. It has become tradition, and, we are already reserved for the exact same thing next year.
I think Bearded Man was there. I know this, because, he drove us there. I recall him parking near our camp and wandering off to carry his fishing supplies to the boat, while the kids and I unloaded the van. That was pretty much the last time I saw him, until he drove us all home again. I think he was fishing most of the time. If not with the boat we rented, then, in someone else's boat. If he wasn't fishing, then, he was wandering around the campground, visiting with other people. He was up and out of the cabin before we woke up, and didn't really come back until we all were asleep. One day, he hopped into the fishing boat of the "Camp Creepy Guy" (Camp Creepy Guy was voted over the nightly bonfire on the beach, because he was just weird.) Everyone remarked upon it, when Jasin and Camp Creepy Guy still hadn't come back after dark. Looking at me questioningly, the other campers remarked that there was a pretty decent possibility that he was fish bait now.
With a sigh, I explained "No, we're used to it. If an ax murderer wandered into our house some night, Jasin would probably go downstairs and inspect the ax, offer to sharpen it for him, demonstrate the best way to swing the ax, tell him where to find better axes, ask him if he had a back up ax, offer him a beer, and tag along for support. It's just how he is."
Eventually they putted back into the dock area via flashlight, safe and sound.
The kids had a great time, and played hard from the time they woke up, until the time they went to bed at night. There were 13 kids on our side of the camp, ranging from ages 16 to 2 and they all rolled around and played together like a huge pack of puppies. George forgot his swim trunks, so, every time he was in the water, it caused another clothing change. I spent a lot of time doing laundry last week. To do laundry meant hauling it down a steep hill, across a wooden bridge, up another hill, and across the campground, to the laundry area. Which consists of one small coin operated washer, and one small coin operated dryer. Every year, it's like the Hunger Games for grown ups, because, if you sleep past 6:00 am, and don't get your laundry in, then, plan on staying there doing laundry until at least mid-afternoon. By Friday, it had gone from a friendly "Oh, it's no problem! I will come back later!" banter between myself and one another woman, to, barely suppressed civility, as we tried to get our laundry done before it ate up an entire day. Seriously. I spent a lot of time playing solitaire and reading books - four and a half books total, actually - while waiting for the many many loads of laundry I had to do every day. Sometimes I could wrangle an offspring to go switch it over from washer to drier, or, haul it back to our camp for me which was nice, because, every time I hiked to the laundry area, I was followed with "Oh, that poor thing!" "You poor lady!" "MORE laundry???" "Are you doing the wash again today?" "Oh, poor thing!" Well. It was either do the laundry, or, have naked children running about. Honestly, a real vacation at this point, would be to a hotel/spa by myself, with daily massages, a private hot tub, and room service.
Before we left for vacation, I was approached by someone who was a relative of another kid that Joe went to Boy Scout Camp with. The relative informed me that one of the kids Joe had camped with had told her that Joe had been swearing quite badly at camp. I nodded in understanding, thinking she was referring to one of the two OTHER Joe's that were there. No, she was definitely talking about my Joe. I was actually shocked at this statement. I agreed to talk to Joe about it, but, I could see that the person talking to me was not happy with my kid, and alleged that the child who had told her this, had also taken the blame for a lot of bad language. I assured her I would look into it.
I called Bearded Man. "Jasin? When you picked Joe up from Scout Camp, was anything mentioned about bad behavior or swearing?"
"No. I know there was some issues with a few other kids, who did nothing but fight the entire time, and the camp counselors needed to get involved a few times, it was that bad. Why?"
"I was just informed that Joe was apparently swearing like a sailor, and that another kid took the blame for it."
"What???"
"I don't know. I mean, I know Kaila has the absolute ability to swear up a blue streak, and I have heard Lexi mumble things under her breath, and, George could make a trucker blush with the language I am fully aware he is capable of (disclaimer: just because they CAN rattle off filthy language, does NOT mean they are allowed to....) but, Joe? Have you ever even heard him swear?"
"No, I really haven't."
"Does he even know HOW to swear?"
"I don't know."
"I mean, if this was George, I might believe it, but, honestly, Joe usually prefers to put people down with big words and condescending comments. I don't know if he would lower himself to swearing, actually."
"It doesn't sound right" agreed Bearded Man
"Okay. Well. I suppose I will talk to him about it."
A call to Joseph was placed. "Joe? I was just talking to so and so's relative. She was pretty upset, and told me that so and so told her that you were swearing pretty badly at camp, and that so and so took all the blame for it....Joseph. You know better."
"I. DID. NOT." Joe bit out curtly.
"I mean, I know kids swear sometimes, but, honestly, it's not appropriate, and, if another kid was getting in trouble for it, then, that makes it even worse, Joe."
"I do not swear! I know much better words, so, I don't have to swear. I never swear, I didn't swear, and I do not know why they are saying I did. Mostly, when everyone was being bad, I ignored it. I didn't want to deal with the drama."
"Well, Joe. I can't say for sure if you did or didn't. But, if you DID, then, you know better, and you better not do it again. If you didn't, then, I expect that you continue to keep your language appropriate."
"Mom. I need to get back to my book." he said impatiently.
Hanging up the phone, I thought about it, and wondered if he had or hadn't been swearing. There wasn't too much more I could do about it. I wasn't going to punish him for something I wasn't entirely convinced he had done, but, I felt badly that another boy may have gotten in trouble for something my son had allegedly said. Fast forward to last evening - immediately after work, I had to take Joe to the school for 7th grade orientation. (I cannot believe that three out of four of my kids will now be in the "big" school! How did this happen??)
Anyhow, the child in question happened to sit at the same table as Joe and I. Determined to get to the bottom of things, and, apologize to the poor kid if necessary, I brought the subject up. "Oh yeah!" the kid said, "Joe was swearing!"
"I was NOT swearing!" Joe insisted.
"Yes you were!"
"I did not."
"I am so sorry you took the blame for it." I interrupted.
"He did not take the blame for ANYTHING, because I did NOT swear!" bit out Joe.
"You said the "C" word!" burst out the other boy. At which I am nearly positive I paled considerably. Getting ready to haul my kid out of the school by his collar, I said "WHAT "C" WORD?????" as the other boy's mother looked on in horror.
"You know. THE "C" word! C-R-A-P!"
Falling back in relief, I said "That is really not a swear word."
"It is in MY house!" the child said cheerfully. "We aren't allowed to say it. OH CRAP! I just dropped my hot dog."
At which his mother told him "We don't say that word."
Thankful that we had gotten to the bottom of it, we continued with the 7th grade orientation. During which I over heard Joe say: "There are probably a lot of crazy people in my family, but, I'm pretty sure my mom is one of the craziest." In a tolerant acceptance tone of voice.
Into the auditorium we trooped, where the principal began the usual power point presentation. Since I have sat through many many many power point presentations given by the principal there, I can only conclude she gets paid by the power point. The highlight of the evening for me, however, was during the introduction of the new teachers joining our staff this year. The new 7th grade Spanish teacher popped up and waved when her name was called, and I honestly burst out "Oh my God! She looks EXACTLY like the Magic School Bus teacher!!!!" Seriously. She is Ms. Frizzle in real life form.
Last thing to note: I now have a child in 7th grade, and a child in 8th grade. This means that they both get to sell: Mums, poinsettias, geraniums and impatiens throughout the year, to pay for their 8th grade trip to Washington DC and Gettysburg. Shameless plug here, but, these flowers are the BEST. When I no longer have children in these grades, I will be shaking down my friend's children for these flowers. That being said - you need flowers? Come see us. Mums will be available for ordering soon!
Okay. Back to work for me!
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