Tears and Laughter: Boys and their camping

One of the many sweet things parenthood brings is backyard campouts. I have written several times through the years about the adventures of childhood camping.

Time and time and time again it was as much about the fun of getting ready as the camping itself. The planning would start the night before and they would begin mid-morning dragging sleeping bags, stuffed animals, and quilts out into the yard.

There would also be the very import decisions about what snacks to take out and where in the yard to put up the tent so as to be able to have a small campfire, yet still be close enough to the house to have Wi-Fi.

For years, the campouts never lasted all night. All mamas know to expect this. That is why they leave the porch light on and the backdoor unlocked because they also know that after midnight, all bets are off.

What the kids don’t know is that the mamas are never able to sleep soundly until they hear the creak of the backdoor and the wonderful sound of little feet slipping to their beds.

Then, one night, either by unexpected sleep or spurred by courage, they make it through the night. No greater evidence of being a big kid exists.

And I thought that was it. I thought once they successfully slept in a tent in the backyard all night, camping could be checked off the to-do list. Well, I was wrong.

McCay and several of his friends went “real” camping Saturday night. They all have trucks and licenses now and all stand near and over six feet tall.

The planning is still a big part of the adventure, and just like when they were younger I spent the night waking to check the clock. This time rather than just listening for the backdoor, I listened for his truck to pull in the driveway.

After daybreak, after waking again, I decided to check his room to see if he had by chance made it in without my hearing.

Anytime he comes home from spending time with friends, as I’m sure all mothers do, I conduct a brief interrogation that goes something like, “Did you have a good time? Nobody got in a fight did they? Were there any problems? Was anyone drinking? Was anyone smoking? Is everything okay?”

I knew if his bedroom door was locked, he was home. And I guess he knew I would be checking. He knew I would be tapping on his door asking questions. Because before I could get to his room, he stopped me with a note he had left on the bar.

I was happy to see it. Relieved he was safe.

The note read, “Hey mom and dad, I’m back home. The trip was a good time. No fighting. No nothing else. Everything is OK.” I interpreted it to also politely say, “So Mom, please don’t knock on my door and wake me up asking questions.”

I miss the little boy he used to be, but love the young man I see him becoming. This parenting thing though…never let anybody tell you it’s easy. No matter how old they get, some nights you will find yourself still a little scared of the dark.

Amanda Walker is a columnist with The West Alabama Watchman, Al.com, The Thomasville Times, and The Wilcox Progressive Era. For more information, visit her on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/AmandaWalker.Columnist.