Equipment

I spent most of Friday packing and preparing to head out on our first camping trip of the season. We have a new (okay, 37 years old but new to us) tent trailer, and so packing was a little different this time. I was pleased that we remembered almost everything (note to self: remember garbage bags and a shovel next time), but I was pretty surprised to find out when we got there that I had apparently not brought along a very important piece of equipment I didn't even know I'd need.

As we were setting up camp, other campers started to arrive by the truckful. I watched closely for little friends for my boys as each camp set up. I definately saw LOTS of boys, but where were the moms? Did none of these boys have sisters? I started to become acutely aware that I seemed to be the only female in sight.

An overexaggeration, I assumed. Surely there were moms and daughters somewhere. It wasn't until we took the boys to the little playground area that I realized how truly alone I was. Surrounded by boy scout leaders and their scouts and Fathers and their sons, I listened to the games they were playing. As the tweenaged boys played some version of tag on the playground equipment, I heard more than one of them exclaim, "Don't push me, or I'm going to lose my manhood." Or "dude, you almost lost your manhood there."

Suddenly, I thought of something that a mother of three boys recently told me: "It's all about their weiners." I realized at that moment the piece of equipment I hadn't brought that made me stand out of the crowd. Kirk kindly informed me that if the baby I'm carrying is actually a boy, then I had one, too. I laughed, and got back to enjoying my camping trip.

Sure, all the scouts kept us up until late in the night playing their night games. Sure, they kept running through our camp, hollering for their friends or making random animal noises. Sure, they started all over again at 6:00 a.m. Oh well. I still had a great time.