RuDad

I spent my vacation at Scout camps with both of my sons.  Nick at Boy Scout camp and Christian at Cub Scout camp.  Two different places, one across the street from the other.  Last Sunday, I went with Nick to his camp.  The camp was overbooked, so our troop had to bring our own tents.  Of course, I brought my single person, backpacking tent.  It is a really good tent, pretty roomy - but you can't stand up in it.  As always, I packed my clothes in my duffle (sp?) bag - using this bag also as my pillow.  My plan was to pack my clothes for the three days that I was with Nick, drive back home, pick up Christian and go to his camp. 

On the last day at Nick's camp, I woke up that morning and put on my clothes for the day - t-shirt and jeans.  I proceed to change my clothes.  In this tent, you have to lay down to dress - like I said, you can't stand up.  I put on my pants and they were SO TIGHT.  I was pretty mad at myself.  How could I hike 10 miles every day and GAIN WEIGHT?  Oh, God, they were tight.  I left my tent and started to pack my car before everyone woke up.  Very tight, strangulating my bowels, so tight. 

I make it back to camp and have to go to the bathroom.  On the way to the bathroom, I tried to put my keys in my pocket.  My fingers only went down to my second knuckle.  Why were my pockets so small?  Did I gain weight AND grow taller?  I get to the latrine and was mortified...they were women's pants.  Holy buckets, I grabbed my roommate's pants, not my own.

I went down to the lake to meet Nick, struggling to walk every step.

"Nick, can I tell you a secret?"
"What, Dad?"
"I'm wearing your Mom's pants."
"Really?"

After Nick jumped into the lake, he realized that he needed his long sleeved shirt and long pants for his swimming merit badge.  They were going to learn how to make flotation devices for Life Saving.  He forgot them and I volunteered to go back to camp and get them out of his tent.  I grunted and shuffled to camp to get his stuff.  With camp empty of Boy Scouts, I dropped the pants to see the size.  The horrifying results almost made me sick.

"Nick, I have some really bad news about these pants."
"What, Dad?"
"They aren't your Mom's, they're Sarah's."
"Dad, that's not funny."
"I'm not joking."
"Oh, no."

Driving back, I finally get a cell in Elizabeth and I call home.

"Hello."
"I don't know how to explain this, but I am wearing Sarah's pants."
"John, that's not funny."
"I know it's not funny, but it's true."
"You can't tell Sarah."

I knew I couldn't tell Sarah.  How upsetting would it be if, as a teenage girl, you found out that your 40 plus year old, 240 plus pound Dad was wearing your pants?!?  I focused the entire way home...please be asleep when I get home, Sarah, please be asleep...

I walk in the door and who is there to greet me?   My first born, Sarah.  My wonderful, sweet child.  I would never do anything to hurt her.  She is such a great kid - never gets into trouble, great grades, helps out around the house...

"How was the camping trip, Dad?"
"I'M WEARING YOUR PANTS!"