It is no secret that I am the mom of all boys. Yep, 100% boy boys in my house. Three of them. Well four of them if you count the husband too. Naturally, this means several things….
Scouting is a fact of life. There will be plenty of camp-outs resulting in sleeping bags that need to be washed. Plenty of achievements that result in patches that need to be sewn on. Oh and everything else that goes with it.
Today, I ran to the laundry-mat to wash sleeping bags. Why? Because Andrew was supposed to be leaving on a Boy Scout camping trip tomorrow immediately after school. I hate washing sleeping bags. So off I went with my handful of quarters and the two sleeping bags, with Lance and his remote control car in tow. If I am going to wash one, I might as well wash both, right? Besides, Victoria and Brianna had been using them the past couple of times they have slept over here so they simply needed to be washed. Naturally, a perfectly good sleeping bag will start to fall apart in a wash 19 Quarters later, the day before a trip where a nice warm sleeping bag will be an absolute must. Did I mention that I hate washing sleeping bags? The zipper came loose on one end and would need to be put back in. The seams came loose in a couple of other places and would need to be tacked back together. Why do they make sleeping bags out of such crappy material in the first place? I guess so you’ll get so stinking frustrated you’ll replace it instead of wash it more than once. So tonight I repaired one sleeping bag for Andrew to walk in the door after Young Men’s only to tell me that the camping trip had been canceled due to the 100% chance of rain the area they would be camping would be having on Friday while they are there. Well, at least the sleeping bag is washed and fixed and ready to go.
I’ve always had mom sew patches on. It looked like something I didn’t want to tackle. Really. I must be brilliantly foreseeing something when I had mom sew all those patches on Andrew’s Cub Scout and Scout shirts. I didn’t think it was that bad. Besides, she was well practiced at this point as my brother was an Eagle Scout so she had sewn on plenty of patches. Mom, I am sorry for all the patches I made you sew on. My goodness! I am one and a half patches into this experience and I am SO DONE already! UGH! No wonder I had put Kyle’s patches off for so long. I am not even sure I have all of the patches I need to sew on his shirt here in the pile. Unfortunately, the change in Wards means a new Pack/Troop number so those patches will have to come off and be replaced with the new numbers. Let’s just say that the pocket on the left side of Kyle’s shirt is no longer usable as a pocket. I am not kidding. There was NO WAY I was going to be sewing those two patches on that pocket going in and out and in and out of a little pocket like that. NOT HAPPENING! Needless to say that I have already let blood on at least two fingers. Granted the fact that I have dry cracked skin on the fingers doesn’t help and since I don’t hand sew often enough to merit one, I do not have a thimble. Needless to say I HATE sewing on cub scout and scout patches. Did I mention that I have fifteen merit badge patches to sew onto Andrew’s Sash and then a rank patch to sew on his shirt before we get to changing the Troop number? I will resist the urge to call mom. I will, really. Fortunately the ones on the sash can just be tacked down as it won’t require standing up to repeated washings.
Such is the life of a mother of all boys. I guess I will be biting my lip often as in another three years, I’ll have yet another son with patches to sew onto the very same shirt.
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