All of my stories are about Cottage Life....
PEE PARTY
“Our wives,” said Mike Malone as he entered the store, “have been talking.”
“Oh no.” Groaned Scott Countryman. He had been looking forward to a quiet long weekend at camp.
“Oh yes.” Mike replied. “They have it all planned out.” He leaned on the counter as Scott finished counting the money in the till. “They even bought all the food.”
“So much for that bottle of Jack Daniels we have hidden out there. If I even so much as look at it my wife will have my bags packed.” Scott complained.
“And mine too.” Mike joined in with a sad pout. There was a moment of silence as they said goodbye to their private weekend.
“Okay, so how many of us are there?” Asked Scott wondering if the camp could hold them all.
“There’s my wife, her parents, the twins, and our foreign exchange student.” Mike said counting on his fingers. “The twins are bringing a friend each too. So that makes eight in my party.”
“Plus you, so that’s nine.” Scott added. “I’ve got me and Jenny, Lisa and the two boys. The boys will probably bring a friend each so that’s seven in my party.” He looked at Mike, who had run out of fingers to count on, and moaned. “That’s fifteen of us all totaled.”
“And three dogs.” Mike said unhappily. He couldn’t picture that many people in the camp at once. “Where are we all going to sleep?”
“We’ll have to bring out the cots.” Scott suggested, “And some air mattresses if I can find some.”
“Okay. And I’ll try to come up with more sleeping bags.”
“Well, let’s make the best of it then.” Scott said. “Let’s skip out early Friday and leave at noon. We won’t have to come back until after supper on Monday.”
“Deal.” Replied Mike without much enthusiasm and headed across the street to his office.
They left as planned on Friday at noon, with four vehicles, fifteen people and three dogs. The caravan joined hundreds of others, all heading north, trying to escape the city early. Long weekends are much like emergency evacuations. The highways become crowded on the outbound lanes while the inbound lanes remain virtually empty. It wasn’t long before they had slowed to a snail’s pace. The two-hour trip stretched into three and the kids became restless as did the dogs who were separated into different vehicles to avoid trouble. Mike was stalled in traffic and called Scott on the cell phone.
“How’s traffic ahead?” He asked. Scott was first out the driveway so he was several miles in front.
“We’re at a dead stop here.” Scott replied with frustration. “There’s construction for another ten miles. The kids are bored and starting to fight. How’s it going over there?”
“The same. The dog has his head hung out the window and he’s panting like we’re in a desert. Which, by the way, it feels like. My air conditioning is broke. Let’s give the phones to the kids and they can call and text message each other. It will keep them out of our hair until we get there.”
“Good idea. Let’s call the brides and have them do the same in their cars. I’m sure they’re frustrated too.”
“Roger that.” Replied Mike in his best trucker voice. “See you at the camp. Mickey over and out.”
Two hours later the caravan came to a halt on the grass in front of the cottage and all the doors seemed to open at once. The kids raced to the waterfront where neighboring children could be heard laughing and splashing. The dogs bounded after them with the wives in hot pursuit. The grandparents took up reclining positions on the deck chairs, feigning aches and pains. Left behind were Scott and Mike. They met behind the furthest vehicle and began unloading.
“We’ve been bamboozled my friend.” Mike said grabbing several duffel bags, camera bags, and knapsacks.
“You got that right.” Scott replied while grabbing grocery bags and coolers. “Did you notice what they brought to eat? All barbeque stuff. Looks like you and I will be the chief cooks and bottle washers.”
“Don’t I know it!” Mike complained with a mischievous smile. “Let’s get all this stuff inside and figure out where to put everyone.”
Scott paused to look at Mike. The smile took him by surprise. “You’re up to something aren’t you?”
“Yep.” Mike replied with a wink and carried the first load of many into the camp. Scott followed close behind, also loaded down with supplies. Enough food and provisions had been brought to feed and clothe a small army. The women had thought of everything and had packed for every contingency. It was almost dinner time when they got everything unloaded and put away. The kids had rummaged through most of the bags and the camp was already strewn with towels, beach toys, water toys, and an impressive array of water pistols.
“I gotta show you something.” Mike said to Scott when they were alone. “Follow me.”
They went into one of the three bedrooms that served as Mike’s room. There were several bags on the bed and boxes sitting on the floor. “We may be the caterers this weekend but we’ll still have our share of the fun!” He was grinning from ear to ear with anticipation as he opened the biggest box.
Scott was shocked at what he saw and he too grinned happily. The box was filled with several super-soaker water cannons, water balloons, scary masks, and gag items. It was a rebel’s treasure chest. “We can start a war with all this!” He exclaimed.
And they did. The war started only minutes after everyone sat down to eat supper. Scott’s daughter, Lisa, innocently squeezed too hard on the ketchup bottle with the excess landing on her younger brother’s chest. Without hesitation the boy whipped out his water pistol and shot back, soaking Lisa’s bathing suit. She screamed as if she had been hit with acid and raised her own water pistol and took aim. All the kids were suddenly on their feet shouting at each other. Water guns appeared from nowhere and it wasn’t long before chaos erupted. It got loud and wet inside the camp as the kids yelled, squealed, threatened and soaked each other. The women and Mike’s in-laws ran for cover outside, laughing as they went. Mike looked at Scott who nodded back. They made a beeline for the hidden box. Moments later they were back with the super soakers and silly grins. Armed and dangerous, they let loose at the same time. Streams of water were spraying over the kids like an open fire hydrant. The kids, seeing who the real enemies were, stopped spraying each other and focused on the men. But as their water supply ran out from the small water guns they ran for cover outside with their mothers. The camp was soaked when the women came back in and called a truce.
“Are the grown-up kids done with their games now?” asked Scott’s wife.
“The indigenous scallywags had an outbreak of high-spiritedness” Scott explained innocently as he started mopping up the water. “Our reputations were at stake. We had to fight back!”
“Yea,” agreed Mike twisting water out of a towel into a bucket, “Our honor is now restored. We are once again Kings among men!”
Both wives mocked them with laughter. They put the rest of the supper on trays and carried it outside to the picnic tables while Mike and Scott finished mopping.
It was late when they all got to bed that night. The in-laws had taken one bedroom for themselves and the wives had taken the other two bedrooms with the smallest children. The two men and the rest of the kids were scattered around the living room on cots and air mattresses.
“What’s all the racket?” Scott stretched in the dark and asked with a tired yawn. He’d been asleep less than an hour.
“Another one of the kids is going to the outhouse.” Mike replied sleepily. “That’s four of them now. I’ve woken up every time.”
“Jeez they’re noisy.” Scott said annoyed.
“It’s not their fault. We’re packed in here like sardines and you can’t move without making noise and waking someone else up.”
Scott yawned again. “We gotta do something about that.”
“Yea.” Agreed Mike. “Buy a bigger camp or get some tents or something.” He closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep again but it didn’t work. The kids were just as noisy coming back in as they were going out.
“Urghh!” Cried Scott hearing more footsteps and creaking floor boards. He hadn’t gotten back to sleep yet. “Who’s getting up now?”
Mike turned on a flashlight. “It’s Jenny taking Adam out. Only four more kids to go!” He turned off the light, put a pillow over his ears and tried to sleep again. It was two thirty in the morning.
Over breakfast they discussed the problem, everyone a bit irritable from lack of sleep. Mike suggested making sure all the kids had gone to the washroom before going to bed and not allowing them anything to drink after seven o’clock. Scott didn’t think that would work because it would be impossible to deny the kids some pop and treats around the camp fire. The in-laws didn’t want to suggest anything saying that it wasn’t their problem but they let everyone know, quite clearly, that they had not slept well and something had to be done. The wives, already threatening mutiny because of the indoor water fight, offered no ideas and concurred with the in-laws that something had to be done.
“Let’s give it some thought through the day.” Scott suggested to Mike. “There’s got to be a solution.”
The day grew hot and muggy. The bright summer sun beat down from another cloudless sky. The weatherman had been dead-on with his forecast. The kids, joining with neighbor children, played in the lake for most of the day, splashing, diving, dunking, and playing water badminton over a makeshift net. The adults, not energetic in the stifling humidity, had moved the lawn chairs from the deck down to the shade on the beach. Not getting enough relief from the heat there, they moved them right into the lake so they could sit with their legs under the cool water. Some of the neighbors brought chairs and food into the water and joined them. It was like having a bonfire without the fire. Mike and Scott served cold drinks as if it were a swim-up bar at a tropical resort.
“When I was a kid,” Mike explained to Scott awhile later, “we had pee-pots under the beds at our camp. I guess the pioneers called them chamber pots but it’s the same thing. Maybe we should go to the Trading Post at Dakota Landing and see if we can get some.”
Scott looked disgusted. “I don’t think so. The kids wouldn’t understand that. And it really doesn’t solve the noise problem. It might make it worse with pots and lids rattling around all night.”
“Well, I don’t have any other ideas. We’re just going to have to live with it for the weekend.”
“Maybe not.” Scott said with a smile. “I’ve got an idea that might work.”
“ What is it?”
“You’ll have to wait and see but I guarantee it will work.”
Mike was curious but didn’t ask anymore questions. Through the day he expected to see him working on something that would solve the problem but Scott did nothing to indicate what his plan was. During the bonfire later that night Scott even encouraged the kids to drink more, tempting fate and drawing curious looks from the rest of the adults.
“Okay smart guy.” Mike asked after everyone had gone to bed. Scott had just finished puttering in the kitchen and was getting into his own sleeping bag. “What’s your grand idea to stop the noise? From what I saw, you did nothing to solve the problem and unless you’re handing out earplugs, none of us will sleep tonight. Why did you let the kids drink so much pop?”
“You’ll see!” Scott replied smartly. “Just go to sleep.”
“This had better be good. I can’t live on three hours sleep.”
Shortly after midnight the first of the night noises began. Scott got up and turned on the flashlight. Using it to find the kitchen, he lit a kerosene lantern and lit the stove. Mike’s son, Michael Jr., was the one who was up first and Scott caught him before he went out the door.
“Hang on a minute Michael.” He said, guiding the child to the kitchen table. “I’m making hot chocolate for us.”
“HUh?” Michael mumbled, still sleepy. He looked bewildered as he watched Scott boil water and fill fifteen mugs with hot chocolate and marshmallows. But then he smiled happily when Scott also brought out a tin full of homemade chocolate chip cookies.
“Okay Michael,” he conspired with the five-year-old, “Let’s wake everyone up! Follow me.” The boy took a tentative step to follow but hesitated, unsure if he should be waking people up. Finally he decided that the rules must be different at camp than at home so it would be okay and he went along with Scott. They woke Mike first and when his dad didn’t get mad ,Michael Jr. felt much better. With lots of noise they woke the other kids that were in the living room. As that group slowly came to life, Scott and Michael Jr. went to each of the bedrooms waking everyone else. There was a lot of yawning and stretching as they all gathered in the kitchen. Everyone, especially Mike, stared at Scott wondering what was going on.
Scott eyed the weary group and pointed to the kitchen counter. “Everyone grab a mug of hot chocolate and follow me!” He took a mug for himself along with the cookies and headed out the door with a flashlight guiding the way. They followed still wondering what was going on.
Scott stopped in front of the outhouse, hopped on top of a tree stump and waited for the last of the line to gather around him. “Welcome.” He said raising his mug of cocoa in a toast, “to my Pee Party!”
“What the heck?” Inquired Mike with wonder.
“What is this about?” demanded Mike’s mother-in-law dressed in a terry cloth bath robe and slippers.
Scott ignored them and addressed the children. “Michael Jr. Your first.” Scott opened the door for him. The boy handed his mug to his dad and hurried in desperately. “Stephanie next, then David, then Lisa, and then Adam.”
Mike finally understood and smiled at Scott. The rest of the adults did too. They ushered the children over to the picnic tables and passed around the cookie tin. The children’s laughter echoed across the lake. Everyone, including the in-laws, got a turn in the outhouse while the rest of the gang enjoyed their cocoa, chased fireflies, and reveled under the moonlight in their pajamas and robes. Quality time had never been so special as it was on that night.
Later, with the camp dark and blessedly quiet, Mike leaned over in his sleeping bag to face Scott. “Your amazing!” He said with pride to his best friend, “That was awesome.”
The family Pee Party became an instant tradition.
this would have to be, I'd keep it as minimalistic as possible while getting the general idea of the character's situation across.
