On the unimportance of clean clothes

The 12yo went camping this weekend. With his Boy Scout Troop, which generally leaves me feeling a little bereft. As a stay-at-home, homeschooling parent, I am very much used to having him around so when he's gone, it's odd. Not bad - just odd. I'm really glad he goes and I knew he was going to have fun, but his absence leaves a hole (particularly noticeable to the 6yo) and it's nice to get him back. Dirt and all.

On Friday, as he was gathering his stuff to pack to go, I was very neatly (and graciously!) cramming packing it all in gallon-size zipper bags. Extra shirt, shorts, underpants, socks, rain gear, sweatshirt, etc. Keeps it dry, keeps it separate, keeps it easy to find . . . keeps it from being used, too, apparently.

I even made a special trip to Target the night before to buy the bags. 

When he left the house on Friday to be dropped off for the campout, he was wearing his Class 'A' uniform shirt, jeans, hiking socks and shoes, and a Class 'B' underneath the Class 'A' - to make it easier to strip off the Class 'A' when he got to the campsite.

When he returned this morning, he was wearing the same jeans, hiking socks, shoes, and Class 'B' that he'd left the house in. Two days ago. The only difference was the removal of the Class 'A' which had been crammed into the backpack and left like this:

Look close - that *was* a freshly laundered shirt. With no wrinkles. It did not come home in the plastic bag packed for that purpose. 

 He also neglected to use this:

Or bugspray either, for that matter.

Which means he came home tanned, dirty, with a bag full of clean clothes. He was also happy to report that he didn't need his first aid kit (a bonus since at sleep-away camp last summer, he burned his finger badly enough to need a nurse visit and tore up his shin badly enough that 4 hours later it was still bleeding and needed butterfly bandages to pull the edges back together). And he was barely out of the car before he informed me that for the very first time (in a year-and-a-half of being a Boy Scout), he came home with everything that he took with him. Score.

And he caught the requisite fish to finish his fishing merit badge, started at camp last summer. Which probably looked a little like this:

Without the p*ssed off little brother in the background. I so love this picture.