I want to tell this story about my son Shooter, O…Shooter my dramatic little spazz Shooter. This past Spring my brother wanted to take a big family camping trip for Spring Break. My husband had to work and didn’t get to go. So, my dad hauls our huge camper to this place we call Man Camp. It has no electricity and it’s about 30 minutes from our home even further back in the sticks.
My neice and nephew (twins) Luke and Leia decide to stay in my camper with Shooter and the older boys stay in my brothers camper. The adults are sitting outside telling stories and maybe having the occasional adult beverage. So, we are sitting there having an awesome time and all of the sudden we hear this horrible screaming noise. I run to the camper and I try to open the door but the door is locked. I never use the lock (you know you’re from a small town) and I am trying to think of the color of the lock and trying to get Shooters attention because I have a 5 year old and two 4 year olds have melt downs and finally my brain starts to function and I tell Shooter to turn the red switch. The door flies open and three babies just leap into mine and my sister-in-laws arms. We are trying to check them for bites or something but they are clinging to us like leeches. We finally get one of them to talk to us and we ask just what is going on and they tell us (this is how I know Shooter is just like me) “Shooter was telling us a story and it scared us”. They wouldn’t quit freaking out or crying.
We had to go to bed at that point because the children wouldn’t let us out of their sight but I’m so proud that I don’t even mind. Shooter told such a good story he even scared himself silly. Maybe, just maybe he can accomplish one day what I never did. Doing something with that story telling ability.