We went camping, Handsome and I. It's on an island, in a river, and you have to canoe your stuff in. We were supposed to be at the site furthest downstream, the same one we had last year (see: Sweat, Handsome, and the Poo Hole), but as we approached Handsome saw something just off shore from the middle site. There was a tree hanging out over the water with a long orange rope hanging down, the loop tied into the bottom just touching the water.
"That's a rope swing."
"A rope swing?"
"Yup. You get a hold of that rope, and climb a little higher. See those wooden rungs nailed to the tree like a short ladder?"
"You get a hold of that rope, and you climb a little ways up those rungs. You hold on to the rope as high as you can and just swing out over the river. Once you're out there, you just ... let go."
Need I say that our plans changed immediately, and we stayed at the middle camp? The one with the rope swing? There was still one hell of a lot of stuff to do to get camp set up when he was already wading out there to get the rope. I didn't really have to watch, I could just listen to keep track of his progress.
He just stepped in.
"Oh my God it's cold!"
He was in to the upper thighs.
"Oh my -
This portion of WYMOP has been edited by The Management, due to the fact that Handsome's mother, grandmother, and aunt all read this blog. Suffice to say, I was informed, colorfully, when the cold water reached his testicles. The Management takes full responsibility for his choice of words as well as his decision to share the information. It's my fault, he learned that from me.
Eventually he was perched on the rungs someone had nailed to the tree, rope in hand. He was on the top rung of the three, and I stopped what I was doing to go watch. He was clutching the rope and staring at the slow moving water. he glanced over and saw me standing on the bank, arms crossed on my chest.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"I'm watching you. It's the first time you've done this, and I want to make sure it turns out okay, that you don't get hurt. If you do, I want to be here to help as fast as possible."
That seemed to mollify him. His focus returned to the task at hand.
"Should I go?"
There was a screech.
There was a splash.
There was sputtering, as, entering somewhat on his back like that, some water went up his nose.
There was complaining about a water-fueled wedgie.
I was grinning like a fool as I returned to getting the camp set up.
Forget all that hooey I spouted at him as to why I was watching him so closely.
I enjoyed that.
Talk to you later!