Uncle Jack Kamp


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Uncle Jack Kamp: Day one.

7:15 am. Woke up to confer with parents. Lunches premade and in frig. Nice. Definition of “healthy snack” determined. Nutella not included. Fibre bars, close enough in moderation. Telephones synchronized. (I need to remember I have a cell phone again. Take it with. Take it with.)

8:10am Parents gone. Checked on boys. They are still alive. So far so good.

Plans for the first day of vacation: let them chill. They had a very busy weekend and got rather cranky last night, so low stimulus day should help. Parental limit on electronics: 50/50 for today. (Or if they start to drive me crazy send them outside for a while.) It’s their first day off, let them do what they want. Okay. I can do this.

10:00am Boys still alive. No plans for world domination at this point.

10:30 am Definition of “death” negotiated. Apparently some deaths don’t count. “That was just stupid. It shouldn’t count.” Hm. Zombies?

12:30 pm The complexities of lunch and candy have been negotiated successfully. How to fairly share control of the TV caused a few bumps at first, but a casual, “I can always just turn it off,” de-escalated the situation.

1:30 pm Hammocks make excellent swings. Did not know that. When three hammocks are hung in trees in a triangle, the ability to change the speed of swing so as to avoid moving in sync is important. Fortunately, no one broke anything.

Dogs, for some inexplicable reason, don’t understand that a 200 pound human swinging at moderate velocity can cause injury if the dog walks directly up to the hammock. Koda has nailed his “What the hell you doin’ fool?” expression. Definition of “healthy snack” revisited.

To do: figure out how to record video game play for upload to Youtube so the boys can favor the world with their mad skillz.

2:30 pm The boys have retreated to the privacy of their lair. Hm, could be a good opportunity to mow the lawn. After receiving assurances that they won’t kill each other for the next half an hour, I leave them to their Youtube entertainment.

3:30 pm. Lawn mowed. Boys abided by their promise. Still breathing. Awesome.

3:35 pm. Hm. Ice cream truck just drove by. No sounds of screaming and joy. I should make sure I wasn’t premature with my last entry.

3:40 pm They have emerged to watch surrealist propaganda on the television. They call them cartoons, but I’m fairly certain this show could be a gateway drug to more serious hallucinogens.  The talking white ape thing with a bare chest and nipples is especially disturbing.

Definition of “healthy snack” revisited.

Quote of the day:

Boy: [To his brother.]  I’m gonna put my foot up your butt!

Me: You want your foot in his butt?

Boy: Well, no.

Me: All right then.

4:20 pm Mom has returned. Day one complete.

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