David and Greg survived their first Fathers and Sons camp out (an annual Mormon tradition each May). Not only did they survive, but David didn't fall in the fire. (I am absolutely convinced that David is going to fall into the fire at a Father and Sons camp out. I have no idea where this irrational--well, give me a break, semi-irrational--idea came from, but as the Fathers and Sons camp out is only once a year, it doesn't seem like an issue worth taking up in therapy. So Greg left with strict instructions on which hospital to take David to and under what circumstances to request a plastic surgeon.)
Upon their triumphant return, David reported that if you eat too many doughnuts, you get sick in your tummy. He also reported that he won a race [the three-legged race] and that he lost a race [the potato sack race]. He was proud of his prize for winning [a box of Good'n'Plenty]. David also reported that they saw frogs, and that Daddy caught a baby frog, but they didn't catch any big frogs.
A few pictures, which, according to Greg, were all taken this morning:
David and friend Caleb--what handsome boys!
Sampling a sour gummy bear.
Discovering a turtle on the morning hike.
Friend Michael holding the turtle.
And David holding the turtle.
Greg said they had a good time. David agreed.
It was clearly a success: no one fell in the fire. One year down, ??? to go . . .
[I had a fun evening of shopping and yummy treats planned for me and Mary. But she decided to take an evening nap, cry for two hours, and then go to bed grumpy. Oh well. I will say that she sure was happy when Daddy and David returned.]
