My son is in the process of transitioning from a cub scout to a boy scout. This is a pretty big deal for him. And for me. In joey scouts, and cub scouts, they have a leader. The leader plans and supervises and generally… well… leads. But in boy scouts the emphasis is on self leading. Responsibility. Management of self. Working as a team. Only 3 transitional visits from cubs to scouts, and he is away on his first camp.
This camp is a 4 day job, if you count the late Friday arrival. They will sleep in a self made tent constructed of poles and canvass. Sleep in their sleeping bags on the ground. Cook for themselves, pee in the bush, not wash, roam around 13 acres of bushland at night with a torch. They are in the bush. Did I mention the bush? No electricity. A campfire, for which they must chop wood themselves. In the rain.
So this mama, walking through the bush late Friday night in the dark as she willingly (?) delivered her son into this situation, was undeniabley nervous about her offspring and his 4 day adventure. Throughout all of this, and the week preceding, husband and son scoffed at my mumminess. Scoffed at my worry, my concerns about drop bears and kangawallafoxes.
A general conversation struck up between parents about weekend plans. I heard one male ask my husband, casually, ”What are you up to? Going away?”. Just as casually, hubby replied, “Oh no, staying aound the house… you know, just in case”. Later in the car he confided in me. “I could not imagine going away for the weekend. What if something happened to him and we could not get there”?. I felt better straight away, and a little smug.
I can only imagine how he will present when he comes home tonight. Probably in the same clothes he left in, dirty, smelly, tired, and ecstatic. With stories of drop bears and kangawallafoxes.