Why Young People Have Children

TRAINING CAMP BUDDIES

As the plane lifted off headed east, I suddenly felt tired. I needed a nap. It had been a four-day adventure parenting a nine-year old, and I was exhausted. While the greater part of me was sad to see the little guy going back to his real parents, there was a teeny, tiny part that breathed a big sigh and pointed me toward the couch. Raising youngsters is not for the faint of heart or those of us used to a more, shall I say, pedestrian lifestyle.
Day one was nothing more than an intercept at the airport followed by a leisurely late lunch at a casual restaurant, then home to play some catch, visit the local amusement park, eat some ice cream and get to bed.
Day two involved dropping the little guy off at his aunt's house where he would play games ALL day: some outdoors like mini golf, and some computerized. Dinner at our place ensued followed by a trip to the "free" zoo to see deer and turkeys (actually, these animals gather nightly at the place where we drop off yard clippings...dozens of people there every night!), then shopping for new school clothes and shoes, and a later than usual bedtime for ALL of us!
Day three: early rising to get doughnuts and head to packers' training camp for the morning. Lunch involved popcorn, nerds and a soda while watching the latest reincarnation of The Karate Kid at the cheap theater. After dinner (Life cereal and OJ), there was his introduction to pickleball...a game which he loved to play. As the sun went down, there was time for more reading, the Nintendo DS and a shower somewhere in there.
Day four started with a casual wakeup before heading out to the zoo to check out all the animals; it also involved feeding many of them in the kids' part as well as providing leaves for the giraffes who had long, black, icky-looking tongues. Then, it was off to see the local waterfall in a rustic park, dinner, and more pickleball.
The Nintendo and Bop-It had a significant hold on this youngster, and getting him to bed was no easy task, but knowing that the plane scheduled called for an 8 o'clock departure, there was little choice. Even I went to bed well before 10.
There seemed to be very little which could rouse him this morning. Dynamite crossed my mind as did the ice my mother used to throw on me. I started to say, "Well, fine, just sleep then and go home whenever," but that would have been a mistake all around.
So, we made the plane, I got a big hug and a mischievous grin as he strode down the loading ramp with his new books in hand.
It was a wonderful time, and I'd like to start again tomorrow...after a good night's sleep.