Last Saturday, Younger had a math contest. Apparently, the bus driver took a right when he should have hung a left, and the math sponsor, trying to recover from a long night spent at a track meet, did not realize the mistake until they were an extra hour further from their destination.
Yet, I highly doubt they had gotten quite as far as Younger later implied.
“We saw camels,” he told us on the way home from the contest.
“My, you did get off the beaten path,” I responded, drily.
“That’s what I said,” was his quick reply. “I said, ‘Hey, we’re in the desert. Let’s visit the pyramids.'” Gathering momentum from my husband’s laughter, Younger continued, “One of the kids told me I didn’t see no camel. But I told him, ‘Sure, I did. They were brown and furry, had long legs, and were smoking cigarettes.'”
And then my husband barely managed to navigate the road while succumbing to bouts of hilarity.
Disappointed that I merely shook my head at him, Younger explained through his own giggles, “Get it, Mom? Cigarettes? Like Camel cigarettes?”
I get it.
I get that I have a son with a wild imagination and a quick tongue and a husband who encourages him.
Trust me, I get it.