Busted

I totally caved and bought a bag of Reese's Pieces at the grocery store yesterday. This is pretty much my favorite candy in all of the universe and that means that I can't be trusted to eat a reasonable amount.

There's, uh, not a lot of the bag left now. But there's still some. 

Now, when I have a treat that I do not want to share with Cubby--who has unfortunately inherited his mother's love for all sweet things--I kind of hide it in this basket on the baker's rack in the breakfast room. The basket is open and all, but it's high enough up that Cubby can't see in there.

A. can, though. While foraging after dinner last night, he discovered my secret candy bag. He ate some, but it's okay (I guess), because unlike me, he has some control and didn't eat very much.

He did, however, put the bag back on the baker's rack on the shelf. Not in the basket. So it was in plain view of Cubby, whose eagle eye landed on it during lunch today. I was on the opposite side of the table, so I didn't know he could see it until he got a big smile on his face and said, "I know what we're going to have for dessert."

I told him we didn't eat dessert after lunch. He assured me that he knew that, but that he could see what would be for dessert after dinner. "Oh yeah?" says I. "Yeah," he says. "Candy. LOOK!"

Dramatic pointing to the bag of Reese's Pieces on the baker's rack.

He asked me where that candy came from. I said I bought it at the store yesterday. He asked who I bought it for. I said--truthfully--that I bought it for me. At which point he informed me very earnestly that "Best friends share. So you should share, Mommy."

So now I have to. Oh well. I can't say I haven't already eaten my share. Kept on the straight and narrow by my four-year-old.

Dammit.

By Popular Demand

Wow, a whole three of you are consumed with curiosity about how Charlie did on the camping trip, huh? Okay.

In the words of A., "He was a manly infant." Though I'm sure Charlie would object to the "infant" designation.

Charlie hung right in there with the bigger boys the whole time, going on nighttime flashlight hikes and everything. They all stayed up until 10 p.m., and then they went to bed. If not to sleep, exactly.

Charlie was, of course, up and down all night long. He does this at home, too, sometimes, but I imagine it was a lot worse being in a confined space with him. He talked to A. all night, spent some time climbing on Cubby's (amazingly still sleeping) face, insisted it was time to get up at 3 a.m., and finally drove everyone out of the tent at 5 a.m.

They sat around the fire until it got light an hour and a half later, had some breakfast, and then A. hauled Charlie home while Jodi took the older kids on another hike.

Charlie was delivered to me at 7:30 a.m. dirty, cold, and completely exhausted. He demanded hot tea and then had a bath. He was in very good spirits. For awhile.

Of course, his lack of sleep and excess of stimulation did catch up to him and the rest of the day was essentially the fallout in the form of numerous fits. He wasn't quite right again until after a nice sound sleep all night on Sunday. But I'm sure he's ready to go back to the woods already.

Keeping Me Guessing

The weather for this weekend was forecast to be clear and very nice. So A. and his friend Jodi decided to take advantage of probably the last kid-appropriate weekend for camping, before it gets too cold. They were planning on just taking the older boys: Cubby, and Jodi's oldest, who is seven.

But A. couldn't leave Charlie behind. So he suggested to Jodi that they camp in the gully just about a half mile up from our house. That way, A. could bring Charlie home at bedtime, as has been his habit in the past. He also suggested that Jodi bring his younger son--who is four--with the same departure time in mind.

So yesterday around 4:30 p.m., A.--loaded down like a sherpa with Charlie in the pack and bags in either hand--headed out with Cubby and Charlie to set up camp. Jodi and his two boys arrived about an hour later and joined them. Jodi told me his younger son was going to stay up there.

At six o'clock, I did the dishes, figuring I'd better get them done before A. arrived home with Charlie in an hour or so.

At seven o'clock, it was almost totally dark and I expected A. and Charlie to show up at any minute. So I puttered around picking up random things downstairs and putting them away. (How does a hatchet end up in my dining room and a spatula in my living room? My husband and sons, respectively.)

At eight o'clock, it had been dark for some time and I was beginning to suspect that Charlie had refused to leave the party in the woods. But I waited up reading until about 8:30, by which point I was falling asleep in my chair (rough night the night before) and decided to go to bed. I fully expected that as soon as I got settled in my bed, A. would show up with a very cold and disgruntled Charlie.

He never did. It is currently 6 a.m., so it appears that Charlie has had his first overnight camping trip.

Maybe he just decided he was a winter camping kind of guy. I heard the furnace come on for the first time this year at 4:30 this morning, so you know it's not exactly tropical out in those woods. Especially down by the creek where they're camping. When I checked the weather station at 5 a.m., it read 37 degrees. Better them than me.

It's still dark, but I bet not long after first light, six very cold men--two big and four little--will be showing up at our door. And I know one of them is going to be extremely pleased with himself.

Big boy, indeed.