I have a confession to make: Before this weekend I hadn't gone camping in 13 years (I'm sorry, Ryan. Hopefully you will still consider me as your brother-in-law). Granted, somehow I earned my Eagle Scout award when I was a teenager, but for me, the best way to go "camping" is to rent a condo on the beach with a king size bed, hot tub, fridge, and TV. Despite my ineptitude as a camper, being the second counselor in my ward's young men's presidency gave me the chance to man-up this weekend and go on an overnight camp with 11 of our scouts. Fortunately, I was not alone--in fact, we were led on the campout by one of the best scoutmasters you could ever ask for. He, along with two other dads who are veteran campers, took care of all the hard stuff, which allowed me to do what I do best--look goofy and provide comic relief.
A moron? Yes. But, at least, a warm moron.
Even though it was muddy, cold, muddy, wet, muddy, rainy, and muddy, we actually had a great time. I enjoyed spending time with both the boys and the leaders (Troop 970 is legit!), and we made some good memories. Although I know I am going to regret saying this, I am actually sort-of almost kinda maybe looking forward to the next one! There may be hope for me yet.