Last night, the Scouts got together for a camp out - for Gus, an overnighter was a prerequisite before earning his Arrow of Light and moving on to the full Boy Scouts. And because he was 8 days short of being 11, he had to have an adult sleep out with him. Since I was going, Niko might as well join us too.
We met the other guys at Prophet Elias and pitched our tent among the others in the back area behind the church.
This is what I expected:
But with the excitement of event, the boys ended up sleeping in Niko's buddy's tent that's attached to the top of their Land Cruiser. So I had the tent to myself - I'd fall asleep instantly, right?
Right. Except for amazingly loud traffic zooming by on Highland Drive. And the flood light on the side of the church that blazed on and off like a dying super nova. And the wind that picked up, rattling everything in its path, the drizzling of the on-again, off-again rain. Oh, and then, around 1:00 a.m. I heard the very distinct voice of a crying Niko...and it was getting closer.
Sure enough, he needed to be with me. Only problem was that in his escape from the car-top tent, he had abandoned his sleeping bag. And it was more than a little chilly. The solution? We crammed into my one-man bag.
Uncomfortable, trying to keep Niko asleep, I tossed and turned as much as humanly possible when cocooned with a 7-year old. And just when I started to believe that sleep may finally arrive, the heavens exploded, pouring a deluge down upon the weary campers. It was 3:40 a.m.
In the morning, with about 3 hours of sleep, I stumbled out of the tent. It was cold and wet. But at least someone got some sleep.
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