CAMPING WITH TWINS!!!

As told by my husband in his Paducah Post column, "Whompyjawed", with a few additions by me...



Here's a story about a brave little boy, and two insane pods. We were invited to Roaring Springs this weekend as guests of our friends, Todd and Carrie Smith. We had a great time. The weather was nice, although a bit on the hot side, but the pool was cold and the food
was great. And you know me, I'm all about the food. I'd say it was a perfect 4th of July weekend.... ah, except for one thing.

Now, the first thing I noticed when we got to the campsite was there were a lot of golf carts and and 4-wheelers running around all over the place, and the majority of them were piloted by kids. I thought,
"You know, I can't believe there aren't any smash ups out here with all this traffic." That's called foreshadowing, folks.

Saturday evening a bunch of us were gathered around a couple of campsites cooking brisket and steaks and other types of meat (it was truly a PETA members nightmare). Todd and Billy Hutchinson were slicing and seasoning and doing all those red-blooded American things you're supposed to do on the 4th. The lady
folk, doing the same with corn, potatoes, and onions. That's just the natural order of things, people. Another part of that natural order is I stand there and sample everything. It's tough, but I somehow
manage. The children? They were doing as children are wont to do... playing and playing hard.
A little too hard.

So, I'm standing there waiting for another tasty morsel when all of a sudden, out of nowhere this golf cart comes barreling through the campsite. Now, my first thought is, "Crazy kids, just wait and see
somebody is going to get hurt and.....?"
That thought was abruptly ended by my second thought, "Holy Gone In Sixty Seconds, those are my kids!!!"
That's right, my sweet adorable chidlren had hotwired a golf cart and were headed for the border.

Actually, had it not been so nightmarishly terrible, I would have been proud of them. Seriously, Sissy was trying to do the steering and Bubby was on the floor pushing on the "go" pedal with his hands.
That's pod teamwork people. But, unfortunately, it was pretty awful and I do what any dad would... throw a flying tackle on the cart just as it bounces off a tree. It would have been nice if that had been the end of it, but again, unfortunately, it wasn't.

Looking back in the wake of the pods dash for freedom was little Tate Hutchinson, with cart tracks over his
little legs. Now, this brave little boy had tried to do the same thing I did, stop the cart. The only difference between what I did and what Li'l Tate tried to do was... you guessed it. Body Mass! I go
a good 275, and five year old Tate, well if he took a big breath might hit 50. I can eat that much in one sitting. In jacks and tic-tac-toe, mass doesn't amount to much. In golf cart tackling, it's
what you call a difference maker. BUT! Nevertheless, Tate got in front of that cart and tried to stop it before something bad happened to the pods. And as you can imagine, he didn't fare so well.

You may get a giggle out of this story, because that's the way I wrote it. But believe me, there was nothing funny about it at the time. We were all so lucky that Tate came out of his rumble with nothing more than some cuts and bad bruises. The Jody and I couldn't
say we were sorry enough or thank God enough that it ended like it did. It could have been so much worse, but it wasn't, and for that we are truly thankful.

But really this story isn't about us or how we felt about it, it's about a brave little boy who put himself in harms way to help two little friends. That's what were really thankful for. So, to Tate
Hutchinson, mine, the Jody's, and the pod's, hero of the week.

Other than that experience...camping was great! Just remember, if you are around my children, be sure to hide your keys!!