boat wreck, part 2

    

     If you’ve ever rafted, you know there’s a lot of gear hauling from the car to the “put-in” and a lot of hurry-up-and-wait while the shuttle is run to ensure that there is an extra car waiting at the “take out.” I got the lucky job of waiting with the boys while Shawn and my girlfriend ran the shuttle. I doled out sandwiches and planted myself in some shade with a memoir I’ve been engrossed in (It’s called Rage Against the Meshugenah, by Danny Evans, who blogs on the site Dad Gone Mad. I can’t recommend either highly enough. Have you ever been depressed? Do you know anyone who has ever been depressed? Are you male? Do you know a male? Do you like to laugh? If the answers to any of these questions is Yes, then get this book. You won’t regret it.).
    It wasn’t long before Middle Son separated himself from the boy pack and wandered over to where I was sitting.

     Middle Son (pacing): Ummm, Mom?

     Me (standing up to stretch): Yeah?

     Middle Son: Your forest is showing.

     Me: What?
     I follow his gaze to the intersection between my swimsuit bottoms and thighs.

     Me: Oh. That. 
     I give my swimsuit bottoms a little tug.

     Me: That’s not a forest, it’s just a few straggly trees.
   
     Middle Son glares, then shakes his head.
   
     Me: I thought I took care of that this morning, but I didn’t have my contacts in. Guess I missed a little (I add a weak laugh on the end to see if we might make light of this).
   
     Still nothing from Middle Son.
   
     Me: I guess it’s a little embarrassing, huh?   

     Middle Son (as he turns and walks away): Yeah, especially WHEN I HAVE A FRIEND WITH US.

     I shrugged and sat back down with my book. It’s not like I looked like the reincarnation of Billy Mays down there. And yes, yes, I know. This is the second time in the past month that I’ve talked about my junk. But please don’t you go all 12-year-old boy on me too. This is a vagina-friendly site.
     About 20 minutes later Middle Son reappeared presenting half of his sandwich, which was partly digested by hand sweat.

     Middle Son: What should I do with this?

     Me: I don’t know, let me see….Maybe eat it?

     Middle Son: I can’t.

     Me: Why not?

     Middle Son: I feel sick.

     Me: Since when?

     Middle Son: Since I saw your forest.

     Me: Good grief. Are you serious?

     Middle Son: Yes. My friend noticed it too. Don’t you think you’re old enough that you should be wearing shorts instead of bikini bottoms?

     Me: Why, no. That hadn’t occurred to me.
   
     Middle Son: Next time wear shorts (abandoning sandwich on the cooler before he walks off, then hollers over his shoulder). And don’t forget to TRIM THE HEDGES!

     Now the fact that I occasionally repulse Middle Son isn’t news to me, but who knew he was so handy with metaphors?

Middle Son (right) and his friend.   
   
   

 

Comments

[SDA]

This is just fantastic, Middle son should just be happy he gets to go rafting and take a friend and not worry about forests lol. Are all boys like that. Good for you wearing bikini bottoms and not shorts. I would if I could and you are not too old to wear what you want rofolol . The pictures are great!!! I look forward to your blog every day. We have dsl now so it should be easier

Keep up the funny writing
SDA

[Brother John]

I love that boy.