Field Trip Fun

Yesterday, I chaperoned on Son Number One's field trip to Camp Chandler.  I hadn't been to Camp Chandler in a long time. I think the last time I went there was for the Indian Princess games with my dad when I was about seven.  His name was Sharp Knife.  I was Moon Glow.  I still have our totems. 

We drove up, dark clouds loomed in the sky threatening rain.  We parked on the big grassy knoll.  I remembered it.  I remembered the exact way it looked.  I remembered doing egg races there, and losing but being so excited to receive a ribbon that said, "I tried." 

The kids were excited.  They bounded off the bus, and we gathered around the flagpole.  Our group got to hit the canoes first.  Our tour guide decided, since we had such a small group, the kids could do paddle boats instead.  There's no risk of tipping or rocking the boat with paddle boats.  I was all for that.  They were safely secured into their life vest, and off they went.

After paddle boats, we hiked up a hill, the kids running far ahead of us and all the parents complaining about how out of shape they are, what diet they're on, and the man boasting about how his wife started a low carb diet that week and he somehow managed to lose 10 pounds.  I told him a man could decide NOT to look at a candy bar for a week and lose 10 pounds.  Men generally have it easier in the weight loss department.  He laughed.

We went onto Indian Games.  The tour guide here separated the kids into three groups: Creeks, Choctaws, and Seminoles, and she made them play Indian/Native American Games to see which one was the strongest.  They had to grab each other's arms and pull and try to pull each other across the bag. 

Wouldn't you know it?  Three girls won.  That's because girls are always stronger than boys, in so many ways.  Oh yeah, also there was an unfair advantage: the land they were standing on was sloped, so the person down hill always had an advantage.  Plus, girls have better lower body strength than boys.  Boys have the upper body strength.  But still: girls are better than boys.  At least that's what I took away from the 8 year olds!

Around this time we ran into Frank, the camp's mascot. 

The poor pig was assaulted by about 50 screaming, arm-flailing 8 year olds yesterday.  I do hope he's still alive.

After Indian Games, we had lunch.  Then we went to Archery.  Unfortunately, I didn't take any pictures at Archery, because I was too busy exhibiting my awesomeness.  They lined the kids up on the bench, and they each waited their turn to shoot the bows.  Number One had his turn, and he didn't want to shoot left handed so he went with his right (which probably handicapped him a little).  He had the strength, but he couldn't really aim at the target, so his arrows went far but not into the target.

I was just dying to get my hands on the bow.  I used to love archery as a kid.  I became quite skilled at it during summer camp, and later my Dad and Mom bought me a bow for Christmas.  I still have that bow, somewhere.  I may take it out again and go to the archery range, who knows?

After all the kids had their turn, I asked our guide if I could shoot and he said sure. 

My first shot went into the ring right around the bulls eye.  The kids thought I was unbelievable!!!

They started chanting, "Go Number One's Mom!  Go!!!"  I heard them tell Number One I was awesome, and I'll tell you what: there is nothing like being cheered on by a bunch of 7 and 8 year old kids to stroke your ego!

Last night, after we were home I went out, but Hubby said at bedtime Number One said, "Dad, Mom got all her arrows into the target.  It was awesome. She's such a bad ass!"  Ok--I don't condone the language, but to be called a bad ass by your 8 year old, well that's pretty bad ass!!!