As you already know, because you read part 1 & part 2, I found myself camping last weekend, even though it is October.
|tents - in case you were wondering|
I’ll pick up from the point where I was laughing in Karma’s face.
I returned to camp and unloaded the equipment into the tent, barely noticing the missing item. Well it was missing, so that is probably why I didn’t see it.
We had some supper and then a campfire was lit and the boys sat around it telling jokes. Apparently the big sing-a-long campfire was arranged for Saturday night, so this was less organised.
|"Knock-Knock - who's there? - I'm gate..."|
You could say that. Have you ever been forced to listen to a group of young boys all trying to tell jokes? It is not, as such, funny.
One recurring theme that came up was that of being – well – gay. A long forgotten part of me remembers being that age, and learning about these things, learning how powerful a tease it is to wield it at someone. I also can just about remember how funny it all seemed to be.
I can – just.
Of course, I’m older now and wiser to the world. I wouldn’t feel happy about my sons telling these kind of jokes in my earshot, and I didn’t feel overly comfortable there either, but it wasn’t my party and at the end of the day it is just normal silliness I suppose. This eventually led to the funniest moment of the whole weekend.
You see, one of the boys told this joke…
“Three men in a bath together. They were called Me, Me-Me and Me-Me-Me. Me-Me-Me got out. Then Me-Me. Who was still in the bath?”
Someone inevitably answers “Me”
At which point the joke teller laughs and shouts “You’re gay”
Now – I’ll be honest, I didn’t get it at all, though it sure made the boys laugh.
This wasn’t the funniest moment of the weekend though, that came the next day, when Jo explained the joke to me.
You see, the crucial point of this joke, was the bit that was just too far over their heads. The reason the joke didn’t make sense was because they just didn’t actually understand it – they just thought three men in a bath meant they could call their friend gay.
Here is the same joke again as it is supposed to be told – see if it makes sense this time…
“There were three men in a bath. They were called Me, Me-Me and Me-Me-Me. Me-Me-Me CAME OUT. Me-Me CAME OUT. Who’s going to COME OUT next?”
Do you see the difference?
I laughed my head off and couldn’t stop giggling for ages – not at the joke but at the sheer daftness of the kids, for laughing so hard at things they had absolutely no hope of understanding.
Who was still in the bath? I absolutely love it!
|no clouds in Oxfordshire means it's going to be cold|
But it wasn’t the next day yet. It was bedtime and I was about to see the missing item.
We had borrowed two lovely thermal sleeping bags. Daniel had one in the main Cub’s tent and Jamie had the other one with me in our little tent. We had an air bed to share and a light Summer sleeping bag for me.
Now, where did I leave my quilt?
You know, the big heavy quilt that I needed to put over my light sleeping bag?
KARMA!!!! Never laugh in Karma’s face people – take a tip from me.
I’d forgotten it and so I slept on an October’s night in England, in a tent, covered by only a very thin sleeping bag.
Over the course of the next two days the boys would abseil, sing songs around a camp fire (that’s a fire at camp by the way, not a fire that’s a bit light on its feet – sorry, been hanging around with cubs and scouts all weekend), they made me almost cry laughing at the milk crate stacking challenge, they played, they had adventures in the woods, they had – let’s face it – an absolutely brilliant time.
|Saturday morning tea - teabag stays to prevent caffeine wastage|
I wouldn’t change a thing.
The boys are full of it; they loved every minute of it.
Well I say I wouldn’t change anything …
All of that fun stuff was yet to come; at this point I am still staring in disbelief at the large space where my quilt was supposed to be.
No central heating.
This, I swiftly assessed, did not look promising.
Things got very, very cold.
I don’t know what time it was, but it was early – or late – I’m not sure which, but the time must have started with an ‘0’. I reached up again and pulled the sleeping bag back up Jamie’s shoulders to keep him warm and snuggled back into him for warmth. Using your youngest son as an emergency hot water bottle can only mean one thing.
Things have gone a little parental.