I’m one of those moms that, even though my boys are nearing adolescence and can swim like fish, I knock on the bathroom door repetitively when either of them are…
I’m one of those moms that, even though my boys are nearing adolescence and can swim like fish, I knock on the bathroom door repetitively when either of them are taking a bath. Or a shower. They may slip. They may fall asleep. Mr. Bubbles may come up from the drain and sell them candy.
Now you know the real reason we moved into an RV…Mommy can see or hear everything.
Except that I really want my children to like me so I try, as hard as it may be, to give them some freedoms. This means I let them decide if they want ranch or hummus with their carrots and when we are in private gated campgrounds I may let them explore a little as long as they have their walkie talkie. Oh the walkie talkies, not only are they the most fun words to say ever, they are the best purchase of the year.
This morning, Brent and I were sitting at the table still in our pjs trying to plan a route that we won’t stick to (not sure why we even bother) while the boys rode their bikes. It was a cool cozy morning and Brent and I were happily huddled up in our booth dinette when we got a call from the boys on the walkie talkie.
“We’re stuck in quick sand.”
Followed by static and laugher.
“Are you okay?”
Static, scuffling, and bits and pieces of a conversation amounting to nonsense between them.
“Give it to me.”
Silence. More static. More Scuffling. Laughter? What was going on?
“What’s going on? Are you stuck or not? Are you playing around? This is not funny.”
Thing 1 got on the walkie talkie and said, “Yes, we’re stuck in the quicksand. Come here.”
I’ve really been working on not getting upset at the drop of a dime. Some people call it “chilling out”. As Brent was rushing out the door, he reassured me that everything was fine, that there wasn’t any “quicksand”, and that they are just playing.
So I sat at the dinette and waited for a phone call that everything was just fine. Then I noticed that Brent had left his cell phone and taken our walkie talkie. What the…
“Breathe deep. Everything is just fine. Just keep planning the route that we won’t use. They will be back in a minute.” I told myself.
But what if it is quicksand? Did you see Never Ending Story? I’m still haunted by the horse part. I better consult google. My google search for “quicksand dangerous” taught me in 20 seconds that quicksand does indeed suck people down. Not only people but cars and locomotives. It also traps people leaving them defenseless against the wild animals that maul them and holds people for the tide of the ocean to swallow up. Somehow I missed the part that most quicksand isn’t dangerous and is only a few inches deep. Maybe I didn’t see that part because I took off running in my Ugg boots through the campground.
When I got to the lake I found this…
I was, at the same time, furious and over joyed.
Dirty rotten scoundrels.
So much for the new boots.
We took them home, cleaned them up, loved on them, and then reminded them they better never ever do something like that again.
Love and Laughter,