Nothing says 1700s like the world's most adorable 4yo wielding a tomahawk
Yesterday, the guys got to do some livin’ in the 18th century. What fun! (I can say that because when we were done, we hopped into our vehicle, picked up a pizza, and watched Monday night football on cable, all modern day perks. The 18th century is fun in hindsight.)
- The day started with a musket demo. The kids were itching to try it themselves, but no such luck. Bummer.
- First activity of the day: Writing with a quill. Several blotches and four ink-stained fingers later, they mastered it, even leftie Sir Buffalo Sushi. (Afterward, Mister Steel said, “I don’t know how Harry Potter did it for as long as he did!” That’s why it’s called magic, son.)
- Next up was dressing up in colonial clothes. Um…not a very big hit with my guys. Dress up? Not gonna happen. This was tied in to a visit to the camp store (actually, a tent). One bull whip and one buffalo tooth later, we were on to the next activity.
- Making cord was up next. This involved braiding six strings together into one. Which kind of made me wonder…if you’ve got the ability to make one string, why couldn’t colonists just make a thicker one without the in-between step? I’m, like, so 21st century.
- After making cord/knotted jumbles of string, the kids made Native American necklaces with buffalo bones, glass beads, and faux sinew. End result was a super-cool take-home.
- Then came lunch break. Some quick sandwiches, and then a good-sized pick-up game of football in a huge field.
- After enjoying that 19th century sport, the next activity was colonial games. Tug of war, hoop racing, some funky stick thing, another funky stick thing, and a free-for-all version of tug of war.
- And the last activity — the creme de la creme: Tomahawk throwing. Not at each other. One at a time, at a big flat log. Turns out, Sir Buffalo Sushi has been carrying around a hidden talent all this time. He sunk that sucker right into the log. Woowee! A mom can only get so proud of her son! I’m going to be sure that goes on his college application.
- The day wrapped up with a demonstration of two little cannons (also which the guys didn’t get to fire, surprisingly).
Best thing about the day: Getting to share all this fun with some of our favorite buddies on the planet.
Worst thing about the day: In three words: Port. A. Potty. This morning, I had a sneaking suspicion that the camp wasn’t going to be equipped with modern day plumbing, so I immediately began dehydration maneuvers. Cut myself off after two cups of coffee. Skipped bringing a water bottle. Practiced crossing my legs. Yes, I’d rather send my kidneys into renal failure than use a cramped plastic bathroom. (Had to use it anyway. Survived. But barely.)
