After yesterdays very brave “Let Them Fly” post, I’m presented with an opportunity to take my own medicine.
Deflector is a Scout. A very very new Scout. His shirt is still crisp and new, and the badge real-estate is all very vacant.
In other words, he’s really learnt nothing yet. Oh he can tie a slip knot, and look appropriately pensive at the ANZAC day march. But when it comes to actual skills…there are none.
And he comes home from his weekly Scout Meeting with the wonderful suggestion that he go on a 3 day 31km hike.
We have been camping many times before. Not your ‘amenities available-electrical appliance friendly-caravan park’ kind of camping. No. We go ‘middle of nowhere – dig a hole-hope like hell we have enough gas’ camping.
Yes. With four kids. It’s actually really fun. Nope, we’re not mad, but plenty of people think we are.
So the idea of Deflector out in the wilderness is not much of a stretch. I can manage that.
What I cannot seem to digest is that, there are 6 kids going, the eldest is 15 and there will be no adult supervision. That can’t be right!? The Scout Association of Australia lets kids wander off into the wilderness by themselves?
I might be overreacting a little. There will be a leader show up to the campsite at night, I guess to make sure everyone survived the day.
I have serious doubts that my Deflector will survive one day; not to mention three.
For one thing he has to carry 3 days worth of food, clothing and camp gear on his back. For 31km. Hubby says “It’s ok he’s only allowed to carry 11kg, the rule is 1kg per year of age” This from the child who whines about carrying 3kg of potatoes from the car to the kitchen.
I’m not at all concerned about him pitching his own tent, or cooking his own food. I know he’s capable of both those tasks. I’m not so confident that he will be able to keep up with the teens. I don’t think he even has a concept of how far 31km is.
I could make myself crazy with all the “What if’s?”
snakes. no phone reception. Ivan Milat.
And let’s not forget, I know what 15 year olds get up to at Scout Camps. Feels like yesterday that my darling husband was in there with the best of ‘em.
But, I’m not going to do that. I’ve decided not to parent out of fear.
But I’d be lying if I said I’m not slightly terrified.
So the question is…
Do I push him out of the nest and keep my fingers crossed that he lands on his feet?