So, managed to squeak out around five hours of fun time with the Boys yesterday, before the storms came. Exene and I pitched the tent and they played, and meantime, the weather got worse and worse. We managed to join in on the dinner -- where B1 got go mad/upset at Exene trying to make him eat some of the cookout food (chicken, in this case) that he puked up what he had eaten, which annoyed her immensely. Nice going!
As ever, I crossed paths with the dads -- in this case, one of whom (a cop, no less) comes up and shakes my hand, says "I can't remember your name" and I gave it, and then he keeps a grip on my hand and starts walking me over to the mess tent -- of course, I'm no fan of being manhandled (literally) so I pry my hand loose of his (prompting him to go "Whoa, whoa, you can't get away that easily!") and he introduced me to one of the other dads and told me to wrangle up some kids to fill the collapsible water containers they had (there were a half-dozen of those high-capacity ones). First off, if you want me to do something, just fucking ask me -- don't try that bullshit faux-friendly ballbusting power-gaming crap on me with your control-grip policeman's handshake shit. That's just plain rude.
I pour one of the water containers to fill one of the hot water pots they're using for the dishwater. Then, I look at those water containers, and having worked with'em before on my own, I know that they get damned heavy, and because they're collapsible plastic, they're very awkward. Looking around at the kids (all of whom are still eating), I think two things: 1) these containers are likely too awkward and big for the kids to handle -- they're little kids, for fuck's sake, and 2) they're all busy eating, so why don't I just handle it, myself?
I take two at a time and walk'em over to the water pump, and fill them up. They're damned heavy, like 30-40 lbs. full. In no time at all, I have'em hauled up and back. The cook-dad I met saw me hauling the last one back, and he carped "You're SUPPOSED to have the BOYS do that!"
Now I'm really fucking annoyed, thinking "Forgive me for being efficient about it and doing it myself, and letting the kids eat. Is this some sacred function or something? Will the kids become juvenile delinquents now because I got the water, instead of ordering some kids I don't even know around and having them do it?"
So, I'm peeved and I leave the mess tent, having played Water Bearer long enough, and getting carped at for my efforts. Around that time was when B1 puked, although I wasn't there to see it.
Anyway, the weather turned sour (really bad, as I knew it would, judging from that radar), and we took everything down (but not before getting soaked -- I drove the Sienna up and had the Boys wait in there while we took it all down). We got completely soaked, and were glad we didn't try to ride it out, as the wind was really strong.
The boys seemed to have fun in the time they had, although B1 was peevish about the storm cutting short the camping, groused about that a bit. Still, we got home ahead of the storm (just ahead of it -- it kicked up about 10 minutes after we got home), and that was that.
B2 took one of the play-tents we have and set it up in the living room, promptly fell asleep in there. B1 played with a flashlight I'd gotten him at Target.
Onward and upward. I'm taking advantage of still having the rental van to make a grocery store run today.
