Wake up Boy, Mommy’s Scared!

I’m not claiming I have bad luck but the saying “shit happens” runs through my head on a daily basis.
Two months ago I decided enough was enough. I’m taking my boys camping. Let’s go Memorial Weekend. Friday through Monday. Rent a Pop-up trailer. It will be great.

Reality hit me Thursday night. I secretly Yahoo IM’d my college roommate in a panic. “When I reserved the camper it was 65 degrees, today I could fry an egg on my ass. They are going to whine and I’m going to end up killing them. I’m not even sure if I like them enough to spend four days in the woods with them.” And her words of wisdom were… “teeheehee, you said ass…”

Surprisingly and to my sheer delight, it was the most fabulous camping trip ever.

Ok, time out. I need to do a disclaimer. Fabulous camping trips do not replace the 2 trips to Colorado, 1 trip to Seattle, 1 cruise, 1 trip to New Orleans, nor the 2 weeks in Europe that I am owed. Sorry but I can see my husband doing the white men’s happy dance thinking if he plays his cards right he may never have to leave the state of Texas again… WRONG.

And now back to our story…

The days and evenings were perfect. And I don’t usually do perfect. We fished. We beached. We played games. Nicholas rode his bike. The day time weather was warm enough to keep drenching Nicholas with the water hose but the breeze kept off the sweat. I even wished we had a few more days out there. Don’t get me wrong, I look forwards to the weekends but there’s nothing more satisfying then my Monday 7 am sighs after Bobby leaves for work and Nicholas waves bye from the school bus. Peace at last.

Oh you nayers, some of you are saying stop blowing smoke up my ass and get to Claire’s Calamity. What? Can’t I tell a happy joyous story without any bitching involved. Your damn right, this column ain’t called clarified chaos for nothing. I did say the weather during the day was perfect and I stand by that. However the night time skies were a different story.

About two hours after we went to bed on the first night, it started lightly sprinkling. That was fine. Maybe even kinda romantic. But 20 minutes later when the strong rains followed with the close lightening, I was fit to be tied. On a scale from 1 to 10, I think the storm was a 6, but being in a flappy trailer pushed it to an 8. The bright lightening and loud thunder made me nervous, but it was ok. I had a plan.

Ever since Nicholas was 9 months old, he’d come a running when a single rain drop hit the roof. Surely any minute now he’d wake up, bob would turn on the lights. We’d share comfort food and ride out the storm.

My son never woke up. Two freaking hours in a horrible storm and Nicholas was dead to the world. Bobby drifted in and out of slumber, mostly out because with each lightening strike I poked him… “Remember,” I yelled each time over the loud thunder “Don’t worry about me in case of a tornado, save Nicholas.” I heard him mumble, “Keep poking me and that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

The last lightening bolt shown my watch to be about 3 am. Proud that I withered the storm, lonely had it may have been, I lied back down. I tried to cuddle with my honey, but by then, his body developed a reflex to jump away from me, fearing another morbid message accompanied the touch. Still I was pleased with myself. I rolled over, I closed one eye as the last raindrop hit the camper’s flaps, I then heard the words I no longer wanted to hear… “Mommy, I’m scared. It’s starting to rain. Can I sleep with you and daddy?” And for the first time ever, my husband begged “please!” immediately dropping him between us…

The fresh morning air seemed to have blown away any left over hostile feeling irrationally shared during the earlier storm. We were all in good spirits and enjoyed the gorgeous day.

They always say lightening never strike twice. The second night as we were battening down for night, the rain started again. Some say I’m too stubborn to learn from my mistakes. But I did. I poked Bobby once more, repeating my national weather advisory alert: S.O.B. save our boy. And let the rains lull me to sleep.

It was such a great weekend. I know I shouldn’t push my luck but I’ve always been a gambler… Three hundred bucks to reserve another camper in July down on red… Place your bets please…