Of course I respect my mom (you can't pick your parents), and I'd get into some way deep trouble if I didn't. But I've been coming out to our piece of the wilderness -- The Parks Wilderness, I mean (sheesh, I gotta get used to calling it that) -- for over a year, now, and she still thinks all we're doing out here is playing games. At least, that's what I thought she was thinking. And don't even TRY asking her to go camping, because she hates that stuff. Which is why I was totally shocked when she showed up last week. We had been on patrol, like usual, and found out somebody trashed turtle creek. Not just trash, either. Would you believe they dumped a huge broken-down washing machine in there? Probably didn't have enough money to take it to the dump. But, man! Anyway, our patrol cleaned up all the trash all right, only we were gonna have to wait till Saturday for Uncle Joe to come out and load up the washer.
Then Mom showed up.
I almost passed out. I mean -- I don't know she even knew how to get here. So, I guess maybe she really was listening some of those times when she'd say things like, "That's nice," or "Sounds interesting," or "Great story -- how about setting the table, now?" when I was trying to explain to her what we were doing out here. Saving our piece of the wilderness. The Parks Wilderness.
So, when she showed up with a borrowed truck on Thursday (a work day and a school day!) and helped us all load up and take it to the dump, I was speechless. She even talked about how disrespectful it was for people to trash our wilderness places that way. Now, all I've been hearing from the rest of the patrol is, "Your mom is --like -- so cool!"
I feel pretty good about that.
Seriously.
W.K.
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