Sometimes, when I walk through the den in the morning and see Colt sitting on the couch, in the crook of his Daddy’s arm, eating his breakfast corndog and enjoying a few minutes of Mike & Mike before it’s time to get ready for school, I just smile.
That kid. There he is, living it up more before 7am on a single day than I did during all combined mornings of my entire childhood. Eating breakfast off A STICK, while WATCHING TV, from the COUCH. That isn’t how we rolled at my house as a kid.
(Because there are very few situations in our lives that cannot leverage a Seinfeld reference), we joke about his life being a Fantasy Camp.
People should plunk down $2000 to live like HIM for a week.
True story. He’s got it pretty good. And that was BEFORE he spent a week with my parents while we were away. They shopped for cowboy boots (and hat!), rode Big Jake, measured everything within reach at IKEA, went to Sunday School (despite my having forgotten to pack him “a collared shirt”), created masterpieces with Perler Beads (which are still a thing, fellow children of the 80s!), swam and swam and swam some more, visited his old pal Trigger, invaded Sea World, and helped Papaw in the workshop.
By the time we were reunited at the end of the week, his feet were barely touching the ground and his face must have hurt from smiling. We never doubted for a second that he was both safe and happy while we were away, but seeing it come to life in photos and videos and especially through his spirited storytelling — I am so grateful he has these people in his life to love on him.
I give you, the Ultimate Fantasy Camp — these pictures are worth thousands of words.