Camping Chronicles

Yes, we camped for three days in the dirt.  It was dirty.  But there was a gorgeous creek.  It was freezing… well, not actually freezing with ice chunks and all, but REALLY cold.  There was sunshine the whole time… except for the clouds, which we welcomed with glad hearts… a break from the heat of the day.  This may sound a bit like whining, but we actually had a great time laughing and laughing and laughing. 

Three camp chairs, of antiquated status, were put to rest as the bearer of weight went crashing to the dusty ground.  It was comical all three times… and I was even one of them.  Currently, I’m sitting on the front of my chair for the time being.  A bit of a bruised backside.

A highlight, or lowlight as the case may be, was my son losing his retainer.  He plucked the clear plastic guard from his upper jaw right in front of my eyeballs… he was standing in between the fire pit and the picnic table.  He had a banana in the other hand.  The scene was burned into my brain. But what he did next with the clear plastic retainer remained a mystery.  He didn’t let me know that it was missing until nighttime.  Yes, we lit lanterns and donned flashlights searching for the plastic gem… to no avail.  I dreaded the phone call to let his ortho-paying father in on the news.

The next day, he and I carefully dug through the entire trash bag… removing each and every piece to a new trash bag. It was disgusting.  Really.  Half way through the bag, he told me, “If it is in here, I’m not sure I’m going to want to put it back in my mouth… ever.” We also tore apart the boy’s tent… piece by smelly piece. Nada.

An hour later, I was envisioning his teeth moving back to their previous locations… and knew we would need to get a new retainer Thursday morning right after we arrived home.  I didn’t have the ortho phone number in my cell, so I put on my brave face and called my husband.  He was not impressed with my tale of woe.   As it happened, he was in a different state, waiting for his passengers to fly home… and the ortho number was not in his phone either.  As we made small talk I was slowly wandering around one end of the campground AND I FOUND IT!  Yes, that clear plastic gem was lying in the weeds next to the clothesline.  I screamed and yelled in my joy.  Rick didn’t understand a word I said on the phone.  Eventually we all rejoiced.  The retainer was “washed” (term used completely loosely) and installed back in its rightful place…. however a bit more snug than usual after the 12 hour absence.

See, camping went jes fine.

Tags: Beaver Creek, camping, creek, fishing, losing retainer, mom, mommy, retainer, swimming, tent