Growing up my family lived in Kirkland, Washington, and every early June heralded a church Fathers and Sons Campout. My brother, Ray, being the only son in my family growing up, went every year. However, since my dad was often traveling for work, Ray went to this activity for many years with a neighbor and his dad. My dad was able to make it once or twice, but not very often - always missing because he was out of town on business. One year, Fathers and Sons came up in conversation between Ray and my dad and Ray said, quite wistfully and dramatically, "You mean Neighbors and Sons." Ouch. After that painful experience for my dad, he rarely missed the event in the years to come. They had marvelous traditions of sleeping in the van (with the seats pulled out) instead of a tent, drinking bottled root beer and investing in some sugary and preservative-filled food for the trip.
Upon moving to Wendover, we were excited to find out that our district (
church district, not school district - out here, for church, we are in a branch and district, not a ward and stake) was having a Fathers and Sons Campout this last weekend. Joseph was eagerly anticipating the beginning of a similar tradition to the one my brother and dad had with his own boys. Unfortunately, on Friday we learned that the location of the campout was still much to muddy for camping and so it was cancelled. To lessen the blow to our children, Joseph proposed setting up our tent out in the yard of our apartment complex and camping with the boys out there. They were thrilled. As the evening progressed, their Fathers and Sons Campout turned into its own Neighbors and Sons activity, albeit very different from Ray's Neighbors and Sons Campouts, and all of us had a marvelous time.
The boys and Joseph went out and set up the tent together and when our neighbors found out about the plan, they volunteered to help out. Our upstairs neighbor brought out her
chimenea for the boys to have a campfire. Someone went to the dollar store to get some marshmallows for the boys to roast. Several of the neighbors gathered around the tent and the chimenea in camping chairs and Elizabeth and I joined in as well. We roasted marshmallows and talked for hours while the boys ran around and wrestled inside the tent. Then, when it was pretty dark, and the boys were getting pretty sleepy, the rest of us packed up and went inside to sleep while Joseph and the boys whipped out their flashlights and zipped up the tent door and Joseph read the next chapter of
Little House in the Prairie to Austin and Matthew.
The girlie had a great time and snuck in a several marshmallows over the course of the night:
Austin loved roasting the marshmallows himself:
The boys actually set up a lot of the tent themselves and were pretty proud of their work:
Joseph is enamored of the chimenea and wants to own one himself:
Matthew didn't care as much about roasting the marshmallows as he did about eating the marshmallows:
