Okay, so Mr. T is in Oklahoma at church camp. He has really enjoyed these trips over the years and growing up I remember how much fun I had, so I’m glad that we’ve found a church that we both like and continues the great Youth Camp tradition.
I like traditions. I like that there are some things that are sacrosanct and must be repeated each year. I have an ornament that always goes on the Christmas tree first. BA and I have lunch at “our place” each year for his birthday (and when I take other sales reps there, I just don’t tell him. If he catches me, well, then I play the honey-it-didn’t-mean-anything card. There are only so many times your best friend will believe that line tho!). Every year I know we will have a Diva Camping trip – girls only.
So, maybe I love traditions! I love old ones that have been passed down for generations and that we continue, and I love new ones that I got to start with Mr. T.
One tradition I don’t love, though, seems to always occur when T is at camp.
Two years ago I got a call:
“Mom, my glasses broke.”
“Can you wear them enough to get by the last couple of days of camp?”
When he got back into town, we replaced them.
One year ago:
“Mom, I dropped my glasses in the lake and they sunk to the bottom, they are gone.”
“Okay, let me overnight you a pair.”
That cost an arm and a leg – and when he got back into town, we replaced them.
This year, we got smart, he took his athletic glasses to wear while swimming. Now, the prescription is a couple of years old; however, he wore them this weekend camping and it seemed to work well.
Then I got THE call:
“Mom, my glasses are breaking. The screw is coming out and I have to be very careful wearing them.”
“Then you better very carefully go to the office or nurse and get some duct tape and tape that all up to get you by!”
Okay, I may have not phrased it like that, I may have actually been nice and sympathetic you know “well, baby, can you get some duct tape and wrap that up to hold it together until you get back and I can fix it?”
Or, I might not have.
All I know is that this is the third year of camp and apparently the third time is NOT a charm! I had a girlfriend ask me the other day “So, any word from T? Does he have his glasses?” Now, I know she was joking, but she died laughing when I told her what happened.
So, yeah, that just happened, third time to camp and the third pair of broken glasses.