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If any­one has read this blog longer than a week, then you’d know that I call my youngest Grem­lin for a rea­son.  What’s even fun­nier is his real name.  It REALLY fits him…wish I could tell you…you’d fall over.  We obvi­ously was caught up in the baby moment and didn’t think about what it meant.

This last week­end J took the boys to a Dads and Lads out­ting.  It’s basi­cally a bunch of guys get­ting together to throw some testos­terone around.  And a few other things around too.  The com­pe­ti­tion types were:

~BB gun tar­get
~22 rifle tar­get
~knife and tom­a­hawk throw
~com­pound bow and arrow shoot

I told J you are ask­ing to being killed by our 5yo.  Lit­tle did I know what I needed to worry about was him with sticks.  Appar­ently there was a bat­tle amongst the boys with sticks and poor Grem­lin walked away with bruises on his head, face and neck.  And that wasn’t all.  He has a hole on the top of his right shoe the size of a 1/2 dol­lar because of stick he was play­ing with that was on fire.  His sock was black but all Grem­lin had to say about it was… “IT WAS SO COOL!!!”

It was obvi­ously called Dad’s and Lads for a rea­son.  If it was Mom’s and Crew the kid­dos would’ve been too busy mak­ing smores to worry about a stick bat­tle, they would’ve gone on a nature hike and learned how to love and under­stand their envi­ron­ment, and then cleaned up that camp bet­ter than they found it.

I have to admit though, their con­fi­dence level went up quite a few notches.  Out of about 100 boys they each got 1st and 2nd place in each com­pe­ti­tion and 2nd place over­all.  I’m pretty proud of them, and thrilled they had so much fun with their dad this weekend.

And what did I do you ask?

Noth­ing.….

I didn’t get snacks for any­one but me.

I didn’t change the TV show cause it was boring.

I didn’t read a book to any­one, because I was read­ing my own book.

I didn’t eat at McDonald’s nor McAllister’s.

It was wonderful!