Monday, October 18, 2010

By Shitters I think I've figured it out!!!

So the blonde just got home from her first overnight Girl Scout camping trip.  The one to which I was NOT invited.  Which is fine.  I didn't really want to go anyway.  I mean, seriously.  Umpteen young girls, in the wild, no coffee, no smokes, no booze.  Sounds like fucking punishment to me.  Glad there are other mothers out there that will step up to the plate and take the obligatory beating on my behalf.

Here's how she looked when she got home:


I asked her to tell me ALL about it.  And so she did.  They had no running water.  (Jesus can you imagine the hassle that would be?)  They got to learn about how to be safe around a fire.  Then they got to learn how to use matches (got any handy mama?  I can show you how to use one properly)  They made their own food.  They washed their own dishes.  They learned how to use knives.  They did some sewing and some tracking.  And made a game - out of STICKS and YARN.  And I thought I was the pioneer in the family?  Obviously I am ashamed to have ever even considered myself in the same category as this rugged child I've borne. 

So at the table, the brunette informs the blonde that she used to be in Girl Scouts too - but only made it to Daisy level then dropped out.  When the blonde asked why, the brunette stated it pretty bluntly:  "DUH!  There is no running water.  While you were out playing in the dirt - I was out shopping at the mall and getting my nails done."

Which was true.  But then the whole conversation reminded me - I used to be in Campfire Girls.  And I, too, went real-roughing it style camping.  No running water.  No shelter other than your tent.  Cooking over the open campfire because DUH!  We were CAMPFIRE girls.  I can also remember hunting and picking berries to make cobbler.  And it occurred to me - I do not recall EVER going to the bathroom the ENTIRE time I was ever on one of those camping trips.  I don't even think there were bathrooms.  And chances are I never went.  I don't recall ever going anyway and we stayed out there for like eleventy nine hundred nights in a row.  Weird.  I'd never really thought of it before. 

But likely explains my fear of staying overnight somewhere other than my own home for fear of not being able to take a shit.  I knew this shitting stage fright constipationaphobia had SOMETHING to do with my childhood.  And NOW I've figured it out!

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