At this moment, right now, there was absolutely nothing I hated more than my dad coming up the stairs singing his wake-up call at 6 a.m.!
It was the same thing every year. He would wake us all up at 6 for a giant buffet of pancakes, omelets, and any meat acceptable for breakfast. My dad's breakfast was a way to coerce us out the door for our annual camping week.
The camping extravaganza took place over the first week of July. Don't get me wrong there is definitely some fun moments, but not that I'm 18 its not the same. When me and my brothers where younger we used to run the campground. We would befriend every kid there that week and create the biggest bike gang and just tear down the paths between sites.
At some point it all flipped. My brothers found more interest in there phones, whittling, flexing for girls, and bully me. Brothers are brothers so I got over it pretty fast. So camping became boring and hot and really just a shit show, with the exception of the 4th of July.
The 4th became the saving grace for the camping trip. The 4th was the one day no one fought all week. We would pack up early and head to the nearby towns lake and spent all day swimming, fishing, and playing yard game. Mom and Dad would barbeque any meat we wanted and we'd eat between rounds of cornhole. The magic happens when the sun goes down. There is nothing like the feeling of watching fireworks while your floating in the warm lake. Everything about the day had a way of making you feel like a kid, and just melted any problem away.
But here's dad at 6 a.m. banging a stupid spoon on a stupid pan just as the birds are singing outside.
" Wakey wakey the days in a making, everybody up."
"uhhhhhhhh"
My dad stops at my door tapping his pan once before leaning on my doorframe.
"That means you ya grumpy ass."
"I don't remember camping happening at the ass crack of dawn."
"Well you better get down stairs and get your moms special chocolate chip banana pancakes before the gremlins get up."
If there is one thing my dad known about me its my love for my moms chocolate chip banana pancake. I couldn't get downstairs faster at this point, my brothers where quick to follow. I barely am in my seat with my plate of pancakes and black coffee when my brothers are storming down the stairs. My older brother Atticus was our bike gang ring leader being a year older than me, my two younger brothers Andrew and Henry are twins 2 years younger than me and notorious for there crazy antics. Beside the spilled coffee and flying bacon breakfast succeeded with no casualties. And now the slow torture began.
The system was simply but my dad was meticulous. Every item that ever existed for camping was on my moms printed out list. From 7 to 10 every camping box had to be checked with the list and packed onto the truck. Anything camping related went in the truck, anything related to luggage or extra curricular fun went in the SUV. The bike rack had been long gone my brothers trading in there gang for skateboards. By 11 the SUV was packed and by 12 we where spread among the two vehicles ready to roll out. We had long past the point of being able to fit 4 teenaged bodies and a weeks worth of living in one vehicle especially if we where bringing our hectic golden retriever Sam.
******paused work in progress 9-10-23******
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Feeding the Flame
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