Camp Stimey: Into the Wild (Part II)

Last we met, I was telling you about Day One of Camp Stimey’s camping trip to Long Island. Day Two dawned sunny, bright, and Jesus Damn Christ, how early do these kids wake up?

We were up, breakfasted, dressed, and ready for the beach at, like, 9 a.m. Okay, Alex and the munchkins were up, breakfasted, dressed, and ready for the beach at, like 7:30. I rolled out of the tent (where I was hiding) at about 8. We finally headed for the beach at 9.

I don’t think it’s a surprise to anyone that I’m the lazy one of the family.

Anyway, the beach was amazing. Day Two was a good day.

Sure, every single one of my kids suffered a bleeding injury on the rocks in the water, but other than that, we had a great time. Also, the beach was made up of a lot more rocks than sand, which made it intensely painful to walk anywhere, but that’s what sitting down was invented for. Am I right?

This is exactly what it felt like to walk on the beach.

The water was a teensy bit frigid too and the munchkins kept making me ferry them out to “that rock way out there that looks like a crocodile.” Alex was too wussy to go in above shin level. He decided to sit on the beach and feed our goldfish crackers to the seagulls.

Guess what? Seagulls really like goldfish. Also, much like our cats, they have a powerful desire for food, but a much stronger fear of my children. At some point they all (Alex and the kids—not the gulls) went to buy ice cream and the seagulls edged in closer and closer, obviously deemed me not a threat, then audaciously proceeded to wander about on the towels two feet away from me.

 Possibly my favorite photo from our vacation.

And in case you were wondering, yes, we are the assholes who always feed the birds. You will never find us in a bird-populated place without a large circle of fighting birds around us. We definitely interacted with more birds than humans.

See, it turns out that most people arrive at this particular beach at noon, just when we were leaving. Which was fortunate because a family of seven walked on to the nearly empty beach and set up their chairs literally right in front of our towels (on which we were sitting) at 11:45.

The people at the ice cream stand had told Alex that if we were looking for something to do, we should drive to Port Jefferson. Sixteen wrong turns later, we were in Port Jefferson…buying ice cream.

That’s kinda our thing on vacation. We go get ice cream. But, seriously, twice in, like, two hours? That might be a first for us.

There were also lots of precarious docks and piers for us to walk past. Even worse, there were ladders hanging off of said docks and piers and crabs and fish in the water.

It’s like the gods wanted Jack to fall into the ocean.

Only some of the ledges had rails.

I, however, learned a lot from Loon Day and kept an iron grip on Jack’s wrist. No one fell into the water.

We headed back to the campsite and Alex took the car and abandoned us, helpless and alone went to his Phish concert, while the munchkins and I started our evening activities.

We went to the playground…

Best. Slide. Ever.

…we took dirt baths…

He’s the littlest, so easiest to bury.

…then we headed back to the campsite where we had fun with the tools at our disposal.

Why didn’t I think of this?

Then, more s’mores.

I made an awesome fire, but started it with a Duraflame. Am smart.

Then, all three kids sat down in the near dark and played Legos together, which made me particularly happy because Alex gave me the stinkeye when he saw me putting the Lego box in the car. He was all, “You really want to take all those tiny pieces camping?” and I was all, “Why wouldn’t I want to take 85 million tiny Legos into the wilderness?”

Who’s laughing now?

After that, I dragged the little men to the bathroom, put Sam under strict instructions to not let anyone out of the bathroom without him, told Jack and Quinn that Sam was in charge and they had to listen to him. Then I sprinted to the women’s bathroom to speed-pee before running back to intercept my children before they ran away.

I forced them to brush their teeth at warp speed and then we raced back to the campsite, where I was sure we would find that our unattended fire had surely burned up our tent and our Legos. I tell you, that whole bedtime pee/tooth brushing thing was the most stressful part of camping for me.

Then I rewarded my children for not being kidnapped by letting them play DSi.

Hold on, little DSi batteries! Hold on!

Bedtime came with all three kids sprawled out across the tent and found me laying literally across the tent in front of the entrance for the specific purpose of serving as a tripping hazard if anyone *cough*Jack*cough* tried to leave the tent in the middle of the night.

Consequently, I also served as a tripping hazard for Alex when he showed up at 1 a.m. I don’t know how Alex found a spot in the tent, and, frankly, I don’t care. Bastard abandoned me. And stepped on my hair when he came back.

Join us tomorrow for what will hopefully be a shorter post detailing Day Three. Incidentally, Day Three started at 1:52 in the morning.

Part I—Camp Stimey: Stay Alive…No Matter What Occurs!
Part III—Camp Stimey: When Animals Attack (Coming Soon!)
Part IV—Hotel Stimey: Spreading the Disease (Coming Soon!)

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