Camping and Calamities

We just returned home from camping at Pontiac Lake over the weekend. We relaxed, ate great Dutch oven breakfast and dinner (prepared by yours truly), played at the beach, and had a wonderful time.

Except for the ONE small catastrophe. Which happened to involve my sons beautiful face. The poor kid.

This is what happens when your son sneaks out of your tent in the early a.m., finds his way over to his “fwends" tent to “pway”, wakes them up, entices them to go play in their big four-door Jeep Rubicon……playing commences……and then this little boy leaned up against the not closed all the way door of said Jeep.

And PLOP! Fell face first right onto the asphalt below.

I woke to the far away sounds of my child screaming.

Yes…he was so stealthy in his sneaking, I didn’t even wake up or notice he was gone. Until it was too late.

But in my defense…either did his Daddy.

I would have been horribly embarrassed to show you the picture I took of him shortly after the fall. Because we had been camping. And in addition to having his battle wounds, the kid was filthy. I mean, he could have passed for a bonafide ragamuffin.

So instead I opted to share the picture of him all nice and cleaned up in the bath at home. Ah yes…… a great mother I am, indeed.