I have a teenage son. He's actually a pretty good kid: smart -- probably genius level, actually -- funny, never given us a moment's trouble. He seems like a normal person. Till we go camping.
We started camping two years ago, when he was about 15. Bought the tent, sleeping bags, and were given a lot of camping gear from friends who figured we would last about ten minutes in the woods, then head to the nearest Holiday Inn. I had my doubts, myself, quite frankly. But, we set up the tent in the backyard for a dry run -- on a night when it was about 35 outside, and hubby went out there to sleep with the kids.
By 2am, they were all inside.
Our first camping trip, we were no sooner out of the van, when ds decided to take a metal baseball bat and strike the nearest tree with full force. Now, this is no small kid -- he's about 6 foot, and wears a size 52 jacket. Any football team would love to have him. Well, he reeled back and clobbered that tree, which retaliated by bouncing the bat back in his face and clocking him a good one. I thought that our first camping trip was over before we ever unloaded the first thing from the van, and that ds would be in a coma before the smores were done.
Turns out I'm wrong -- two years later, we still go out at least a couple of times a summer. Well, we went out last weekend, and ds got out of the car and promptly punches a tree with his fist. HARD. Of course, I missed this, but he told me about it later, with a great deal of pride. I told him watch out, because the trees were probably like those ones in Lord of the Rings, and would retaliate. He just shook his head and wandered off, wondering why I thought it weird that my "gifted" son likes to pummel trees.
But that was before he lit his hand on fire, on purpose, with bug spray, later that night. Makes a mother wonder -- was it that Mountain Dew I drank whilst pregnant with him, or what?