Mommy’s Joy

Hi all! I’m still swamped over here but I wanted to drop a line to my favorite fan(s) to let you know I’m still hanging in there.  I still haven’t unloaded our camper yet although that might happen today after, yet again, another midnight run in my PJ’s outside to fish something out of it. This time it was AAA batteries because, GODDESS FORBID, the remote control was dead and I had packed all the AAA’s for our mini LED flashlights that we had to have.  Ahem.  So ya, might find time to get on that one today. Besides the threat of remote control death, my cork screw is also locked away tight in there and I won’t be able to get at it till I get the other junk out of the way and that IS a true tragedy! (And I’m too cheap to spend a few bucks to get another one temporarily.)

That’s where I’m at ya’ll. Battling the housewife’s dilemmas and living the American Dream.

I also wanted to drop you all a line to ask for some help.  Shhhhhh!  Be vwerrry, vwerrry quiet!  I think there is something living in my laundry basket.  What do you think?  Is it going to bite my hand off if I dare to put away the clothes it’s hiding in or should I make the hubby risk it?

I think it’s the rare Laundry Penguin who feeds off T-shirt iron ons and is the culprit of all my broken panty elastic.

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Hello to my loyal reader(s) out there!  I have survived my swim in the redneck gene pool and have lots of great stories and pictures to share with you.  Like the story of why it’s not smart to use a dull knife to cut a watermelon. OUCH! Or how much damage can a frozen water balloon shot across a foot ball field with a sling shot do. Fun stuff like that. And no, my entire camping trip was not one big bruise waiting to happen.  Although I do have a few redneck war stories to share with you. We had plenty of food, fun, and relaxation too. Or as much relaxation as a mom can get when camping with an inquisitive one year old who isn’t afraid to wander. “EJ, come back here!!!  You don’t need to go see if the neighboring camp’s ice cubes taste different.  And stay away from that beer can on the ground…….!!!” (As I launch myself out of my reclining lawn chair to dash across rocks and the dead Texas grass and cactus, barefooted, hoping to catch EJ mid scavenge.) That sort of thing.

But before I regal you with all the nitty gritty details I first have to survive the returning home phase of our little vacation. The one where you find your house covered in dust and dog fur (I’m shaving those critters before I leave next year dammit!), baby toys and clutter that you neglect to put away before you leave, dishes your husband left for you when he would return home for the day (We don’t go that far away from town and my hubby is more domesicated then me and must return home for daily showering), and the OMG mountain of laundry! And how is it that the entire contents of your refrigerator can expire in one week?   Then there’s the unpacking, cleaning, and returning of our camper to its happy state of rest where it lives for the rest of the year when we don’t use it for the other family outings and vacations we swear each year we are going to take.

So stay tuned for more redneck fun… The party may be over but the clean up has just begun…!

And speaking of clean up, anyone have a box of baby wipes…or a hose?

EJ lovin’ the dirt!

At least I hope thats dirt she inspecting!!!!

Oh and before I leave you…do you see that little red button on the top right hand side of the page for the Funniest Blog? Voting closes on  July 6th and I’d love to see some more votes. I know I’ll never beat out some of the major players in the blogging world but it is still giving me a cheap thrill to see my name there. So please head on over and vote for me. You can vote once each day and it only takes a minute. Thanks!!

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I’m at the list making phase of my Camp Ben planning.  Can’t forget the most important detail!

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For more of MY Wordless/ful Wednesday go HERE!

For more WordFUL Wednesday go to Clown Circus

For more WordLESS Wednesday go to 5 Minutes For Mom or Wordless Wednesday.com

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You know when you go camping anywhere in America each camp ground has it’s own set of rules that they hold dear. And as a good little camper and a good American you want to respect and follow those rules.  Even Camp Ben has a few Rules that are VERY important for the health, safety and fun of all the campers.

Here we go.  The top 10 rules you muct follow when attending Camp Ben*.

10.  Make sure you place the really toxic gallon jug of pre-mixed but not iced (therefore not watered down slightly) purple hooters on the top of your cooler before you go to bed.  That way when your neighboring teenager, aka. beer thief, sneaks in they will think they hit the mother load. And then the mother load will hit them about 30 minutes later.

9. Always be armed with weapons against dive bombing June bugs.  I have found a nice solid paper plate works well for swatting at those little bastards. However, in recent years we have also invested in a handheld device that fries bugs on contact.  Sizzle, sizzle, sizzle. Oh, yaaaa!

8. Walking to your neighbors camp is just not done. The proper way to approach another camp site is by piling into the back of a truck with coolers and lawn chairs. Much better than dragging them over that long 50 yards.  And be sure to hang on tight… see Rule number 7.

7.  When driving a truck load of drunken idiots to the next camp site for visitin’ be sure to slam on your breaks a few time yelling “squirrel” or “coon”.   Also, you get bonus points for going air born over any speed bumps that might cross your path.

6. When visitin’ another camp site always make sure you bring an extra beer to share so as to not seem selfish. Selfish people wake up naked duct taped to lawn chairs in the middle of the camp grounds.

5.  Watch out for drunken red-neck golf cart jockeys.

4.  If you do something entirely too offensive in the shared camp port-o-pot be sure to follow your friend to the potty and block the door from them making a quick exit.  Makes for a nice story later.

3.  And be sure to pick a victim every year for a port-o-rockin’ !!! Possibly the same person who you tortured in Rule number 4.

2.  When filling water balloons for the big water balloon fight it is every Camp Ben-ners sworn duty to rocket launch a few over the fence at the snots from the banquet hall. Cuz they’re snots.

1.  And the number 1 rule to follow, (And this is personally my favorite rule that I give you out of the kindness of my heart) do not wear black thong underwear under light khaki shorts in a water fight. This one is a very bad idea unless you would like to forever carry the nick name “Thong Girl” and have it hollered out to you loudly every time you ride up in the back of a truck for visitin’.  However, if you do gain the honor of this nick name know that you can also by-pass rule number 6, cuz there will always be a beer waiting for “Thong Girl”.

*I never said they weren’t bubba’s rules.

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Let’s talk about a little thing called camping ya’ll!  And were not talking about going out to the woods, pitching a tent, daring the elements to get you type of camping.  We are talking about pitching the pop up camper, making sure it has a great power supply for the AC unit. Figuring out how to stock the camp refrigerator and not blow said power supply with the load. And lets not forget about the indoor/outdoor carpet that covers the rocky grassy ground where we will also pitch our canopies to block out as much sun as possible. Under that canopy is where we will set up our multitude of box fans and misters so we stay nice and cool while sitting out in the 100 degree Texas heat enjoying “nature”. That “nature” by the way isn’t of the cute little bambi next to the bubbling stream version but the shirtless, beer guzzling, possibly hairy and sweaty, but always filled with great conversation and wonderful stories that are shared with you as they visit your campsite or you drift over to theirs.

Yep, camping-lite is what we like to call it over Camp Ben.  Are you seeing the images now? Camp Ben is an old Confederate camp ground (And don’t get your panties in a twist. It’s not about discrimination and white supremacy and all that nasty crap in anyway, it’s about family and don’t forget the beer) where each year 1000’s of “family” members gather (Cuz many are related to each other in too many strange ways) for the reunion. This year marks the 113th year for this event.  I’m sure way back 100 years ago it was a place of memory and celebration of the lives of those who served for the Confederacy in the Civil War, but now it’s just and excuse to get together, do things that are regarded and graded by bubba’s red-neck scale of approval.  OH, and drink… BEER!

Camp Ben is what I usually describe to people as a week long drunk fest. Although, as we have aged it’s quickly becoming a week long challenge to see how we can bring our living rooms and kitchens to the great outdoors.  Instead of waking up to breakfast of beer and shots of what ever hairy dog we drank the night before it’s now grilling up sausage and bacon for a great big “cowboy” breakfast. (See further down about torturing teenagers) And then right after that we start in on bar-b-q’ing dinner.  Lunch is still usually beer.  Sorry, can’t drift too far from tradition.  Nope, now we are saving the hard core partying to the younger generation out there, just like we were once.  But that doesn’t mean it’s not fun anymore.  Now we get to do all the things that we wished we could do when we were younger, just with more respect. We don’t have to tell anyone where we are going and with who. We don’t have to beg anyone for money to spend at the carnival. And, here’s the whopper, now we can walk right up to a sheriffs deputy and give him a nice big drunk kiss and tell him you love him WITHOUT him making you dump out your beer.  Love that one!

Back then, being a hell raising teenager, did have it’s advantages, however. When you were crazy drunk enough to go cop kissing you usually weren’t arrested but were taken back to camp. But wait! I’m sure all you parents out there are thinking the kid would get it then. But nope, punishment wasn’t handed down like that since usually the camp you told the cop you “belonged” to wasn’t yours but a friend of your parents. Who would in turn lie through their teeth for you and tell the cop that “Yep, she belongs to me.  Get over here you pain in the ass. Your momma’s gonna skin you alive when she gets back…” (Love you Morris!) Then they just make you wash their truck or pick up trash the next day or something equaling embarrassing for pay back for” lyin’ to the law”.

Yep, those were the days. Day’s I know that my daughter will enjoy too. As a parent I’m not really as open minded to the drinking and carrying on thing as you may be thinking right now but out there, at Camp Ben, it’s still a different way of life.  Slower, safer. Where real lessons are learned from those night binges as your “parents” (or who ever took care of you the night before) cooks up those huge “cowboy” breakfasts and you have to sit and gobble up every bite on your plate which is complete torture to the hungover teenager.  I think we would all starve out there if it wasn’t for having to cook for those rotten kids to teach them a lesson. Instead of grounding, taking away TV or driving privileges, punishments are handed down in much simpler, and in the eyes of the hungover teenager, harsher way as they puke their guts out behind the camper, praying that they aren’t standing on a thistle bush.

By now you are wondering why I’m telling you all this. Well, because I’m a Camp Ben’er.  and today marks the Monday before we go to camp on Friday. Today is the day where I pull my pop up camper into my nice suburban drive way and start readjusting my red-neck hat on my head. Cuz by Friday I want it to fit and stay put for the full week I’m “roughing it”.  If you feel like dropping by for a beer and a story then come on over and “set a spell”. Just don’t get drunk and pass out in my camp. You might end up up duct taped to the flag poll.

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