A Whole Lot of Fun and a Little Bit of Folly

Hey friends, let’s chat…Y’all are on my mind so much these days. I find myself wondering how y’all are doing, how your families are doing, whether y’all are sick with Covid or sick of Covid. I wonder if y’all are reeling from the news, limiting your consumption of the news, or making news. 2020 has left us all breathless, amen? I’ll talk more about current events below. Afterwards, I need you to hit reply and talk to me, and leave any prayer requests on your heart when you do. Praying for this community is a privilege and I don’t take it lightly.  For now, how about a lighter topic for a change?

The Fourth Annual Pops and Keggie Kamp is about to kick off here on the banks of Lake Providence, Louisiana, and it’s a toss-up as to who is the most excited, my grandchildren, or Keggie?! Kamp is a party hardy gathering of almost non-stop activities. Among other items to be checked off our list are the prerequisite afternoons on the lake, devotionals and crafts, and visits with their great grandparents who live just down the road. In case anyone is counting besides your truly, I have SIX grands now, but Kennedy Lee is a wee too young for Kamp. Her time will come!

The five grands who do attend habitually shorten our official moniker to Keggie Kamp, regardless of my efforts to include the beloved farmer. That can be equally attributed to the fact that Pops still has to farm during it all, and the reality that he functions as the wise manager of this crowd as compared to Keggie, their fellow Kamper. Our hashtag is #noadultsallowed and none of the grands think that disqualifies me, (or my BFF who is known to hang on the lake with us.)

I anticipate loads of fun and the consumption of large amounts of food. I’m also prepared for a bit of folly! It’s hard to imagine getting five grandchildren under one roof for an extended slumber party without at least a little folly, but we’ll get through that, too. In the interest of full disclosure, lean in and I’ll tell you a story about one of my big grandparenting fails! Littles aren’t the only ones who can fall into folly…

The grands and I were headed out on the lake for an afternoon of boating and swimming. That particular day I was the only big person in the party, so we weren’t going to be tubing, skiing, or knee-boarding. (For that, we insist on having a grownup at the wheel and grownup eyes on those being towed.)

We had all trooped down to the boat dock with the necessary supplies, sunscreen, life vests, a cooler of ice downed drinks, and snacks. Many snacks. Up until the big fail, we had been strenuously following all of our big safety rules. The kids were all covered in sunscreen and wearing their life vests, having suited up before we reached the dock. That’s non-negotiable and I’d just like it noted in my defense. (Yes, I’m going to need a strong defense. Stay tuned.)

The kids were all seated, and I was pulling away from the dock when I saw it. Bummer! We had inadvertently left the cooler on the dock’s lower level.

I made a large circle and trolled back up to the dock. There was zero wind. The boat was sitting completely still in the water, which is when I made a mistake I can’t possibly defend. My serious lapse in judgment could’ve ended very badly.

I told the grands to sit still. My intention was to step off the boat’s back platform, grab the small cooler, which was literally one step from the boat, and step right back on the boat. Sounds fine, and it would’ve been, only I didn’t kill the motor.

I know. You’re right. You can’t think worse of that decision than I do.

In that precise nano-second of time, the middle grandchild decided to act. From what we could piece together later, he thought the boat was going to drift away without me. So, in typical Connor ninja speed fashion, the seven-year-old said, “I’ll help, Keggie!” The next second has been forever recorded in my memory, in slow motion.

As Connor was announcing his plan to help, he somehow simultaneously teleported himself to the gearshift and pulled it down in one motion. Before my eyes, my grands began leaving the dock—in reverse!

In the ensuring pandemonium, with all five grands screaming and successfully drowning out my instructions, Connor’s older brother had the presence of mind to grab the keys from the ignition and kill the motor. Thank you, nine-year-old grandson. Thank you. But there sat my grands, in the boat all my themselves, some distance from the dock. The older grands began trying to quiet their younger siblings. Be still my heart. I was about to do what I never do—swim off the dock.

Brief backstory…I don’t swim off of the same dock where I see snakes regularly sunning their slippery selves on cypress knees, where I imagine alligators lurking in the shadows. Oh, no, sir. I mean, I love the summer fun! I tube, ski, kneeboard, all of it! I just do it from the center of the lake. Everyone knows this. My friends know this. My family knows this. My grands know this. Keggie enters the water in the middle of the lake, and she exits it there. In normal times. These were not normal times.

There may be a pause here in action as I retell the story, but those were my grandchildren out there in that boat and there was no pause that day. I removed my sunglasses, my phone, and my swimsuit cover, and dove in, sans life jacket. (Minor fail that palls in comparison to the big fail: while I had made sure the grands had on their vests, mine was in the boat.)

As I stroked toward the boat, the occupants grew very quiet. They’d all been fussing at Connor when I dove in, but even that stopped. Keggie was not going to be happy when she boarded, and they knew it.

When I drew near the boat, Emerson Ann, oldest granddaughter, moved towards the rear of the boat. “I’m just lowering the ladder for you, Keggie,” she said, in a tone one uses to approach a snarling dog. Ladder lowered, she quickly returned to her seat.

Not a word was said as I boarded. Five pairs of eyes were on me as I toweled off and caught my breath. Everyone was waiting for the sermon that was sure to come. Only it didn’t.

I met Connor’s beautiful dark eyes, clouded with anxiety, still wet with tears, and I smiled. There would be plenty time to talk about what went wrong. The moment called for more. It called for mercy.

“Let’s talk about grace,” I said to the grands as I pulled Connor into my arms. They couldn’t have listened any closer as we began talking about what to do when we know we’ve been wrong.

Among other things, I told Connor I knew he meant well when he disobeyed the order to sit still, and I reminded him that one of our rules was that they never touch the throttle, the wheel, or the keys. Connor was obviously contrite. The others had heard him crying and they had heard him saying, “I’m sorry!” more than once. Everyone knew he was wrong. I told them Connor was also forgiven.

Then I told them Keggie had made a ginormous mistake in not turning off the boat motor and I fully owned my role in the debacle that started it all. Grownups can make mistakes, too, I told them, and I had made a big one.

Together, we wiped our eyes and salvaged the day.

This story falls solidly under the kids and my “what happens at Keggie Kamp stays at Keggie Kamp rule”, but it didn’t. Stuff happens. By that weekend, their parents had arrived for our larger family reunion began. We were all sitting over a dinner table strewn with empty dishes, telling stories on our full stomachs, which is one of my favorite things in all the world when the cat escaped the bag.

I mean, I’m sure I was going to tell the other adults about our mishap, eventually, when the time was right. Only, during a conversation about near misses, Emerson blurted out, “Like when we drove the boat without you, Keggie?”

My granddaughter froze with a “Oh, no, I’m sorry” look on her face, and all adult eyes swiveled to Keggie.  Ruh, roh. Sometimes you don’t get to choose the moment of reckoning.

In the end, all was well, and all ended well. The grands’ parents were understanding and gracious about my mistake, and grace upon grace, they still trust me with their littles.

Pops and Keggie Kamp will wear me down to a fare thee well. I know this. I’ll need my own vacay when it’s over, but it will be energy well spent. I’ll report back when I muster the strength!

Hugs,
Shellie