Thank goodness for daddies

Saturday night, Grayson took the boys camping in the wilderness. Sort of. Actually, it was in our backyard, but for two boys who'd never been camping before, it might as well have been the Great Wide Yonder.

I am so thankful that he likes this kind of activity, because I'm happy to teach them how to scrapbook and do crafty homework with them, but camping ranks right up there with getting a pap smear, as far as I'm concerned. (I don't like it. You got that, right? I wasn't sure how effective that analogy was.)



There was lots of prep work to be done in the early evening, such as pitching the tent before dark. First, they found a relatively flat area for the tent.



Then they unpacked all the Tent Stuff and started spreading it out. This was amusing. Grayson says I'M particular about everything ... well, you should hear him instructing Short People on how to pitch a tent.



They laid the tent over the waterproof ground covering thingie and got all the corners aligned properly. ("Don't step on the tent. DON'T STEP ON THE TENT. GET OFF THE TENT!")



Then they got the tent poles ready and snapped them into place. ("Don't bend the poles. DON'T BE ROUGH WITH THE POLES. BE CAREFUL WITH THE POLES!")



Next, they inserted the tent poles into the Tent Pole Holder Thingies to make the tent stand up. ("Don't step on the tent. DON'T STEP ON THE TENT. GET OFF THE TENT!") I think the boys were stepping on the tent or something, but I'm not sure.



Meanwhile, Jake and I were watching, listening and taking pictures from the deck. Jake would have been all into the Tent Stuff if we'd been down in the yard, but I wasn't about to miss the entertainment going on below. So we surveyed everything from this vantage point.



Jake REALLY wanted to be down in the yard with The Big Boys.



He made his displeasure known in several ways, with varying degrees of success. Here, he is clawing at my shirt, grunting and snuffling through his nose and mouth, and is about .5 seconds from trying to rip the camera out of my hand. (LOOK AT THAT FURROWED BROW. It looks stapled.)



Oblivious to Jake's displeasure, progress continued in the yard. They'd moved around to the rear side of the tent to insert the poles. ("Don't touch the zipper. I DON'T WANT TO SLEEP WITH GNATS BUZZING AROUND MY HEAD ALL NIGHT, SO DON'T OPEN THE ZIPPER. NICK! STOP WITH THE ZIPPER!")



They were approaching the end of the Tent Construction, and things were looking good. Jake was about at wits' end, though, just DYING to be down there with them, so I stashed him in the kitchen behind me while I got a few last shots.



Uh oh. ("Don't step on the tent. DON'T STEP ON THE TENT. NICK, GET OFF THE TENT!")



Did I mention that I'd placed Jake in the kitchen?



At the risk of raising the ire of The Internet, I share with you the pictures of The Captive and His Thighs.





All that was left was attaching the rain fly, which took only moments. (You know the drill at this point ... "Feet ... FEET ... FEET! ... blah blah blah ...")



But after they got everything set up and changed into their PJs, the excitement was PALPABLE as they crowded into the tent.



Grayson slept out there with them, and they made it all night without even coming in to use the potty.




We even had a beautiful full moon, and the night was marred only by our automatic sprinklers coming on at 4 a.m. and running for 3o minutes. Oops. My bad.



So Grayson's a hero -- to me AND to them -- for a weekend adventure. I'M glad I didn't have to take part in it, and THEY'RE glad he's the type of daddy who will. They're already looking forward to the next campout. So is Jake ... I think I saw enough empty room in there for him ...