A Boy and a Map

It was the big weekend when my wonderful husband took T-man on a "rain check" father-son camp out. T-man has been counting down the days with growing excitement. The day of the camp out, T-man wore his backpack -- full of books, a flashlight, and a change of clothes -- all afternoon.

T-man picked the camping place (Bear's Den) and the menu (hot dogs & smores for dinner, pancakes & sausages for breakfast). We piled up the sleeping bags, tent, and other essentials in the living room so that as soon as hubby arrived home from work, all they had to do was load up the truck and go. I barely got a half-hug and had to steal a kiss as T-man left - he was so dang excited, he couldn't be troubled with a clingy mommy.

It turned out that the best part of the outing was the hike. As soon as they had their tent set up, Dad handed T-man the map of the trails and said, "You're in charge. Where should we go?" T-man took his assignment seriously and led them on a LONG hike, making sure that they traversed all three trails. Hubby said that T-man relished being incharge. They didn't return to the campsite until the sun had set. And they ate their dinner by firelight.

Camping, especially the sleeping on the hard ground part, no longer holds much interest for me. I'd much rather sleep in my own bed with my favorite pillow and air conditioning. But for my 5 year old son, it was the best night he'd had all year.

Long after they had returned from their camp out and the gear had been unpacked and re-stored, my son carried his map of the trails in his hand. I found the map last night, on the shelf above his bed, crumpled and worn, and still within his reach.