"Why do you always sign me up for these things?" he whined.
"Because if I didn't, you'd spend all your time playing video games," I answered.
Mark stared at me quizzically.
"Um...yeah," he said. Duh, he also thought, but was smart enough not to verbalize. And the problem is???
The problem is, I don't want all his childhood memories centered around the TV. I signed him up for ocean fishing, happily, until the final email arrived, stating we had to be on the dock by 5:30. IN THE MORNING. On a Saturday.
I reacted the same way Mark did--I mentally kicked me.
When the alarm rang on Saturday morning at 4:45, I kicked myself again. I wondered if I was so desperate for a kid-free day that I'd actually wake up while it's still dark--and then realized yeah, that sounds about right.
Mark did surprisingly well. He was up, dressed and ready to go within 15 minutes. He even put on a lucky hat--his Miami Dolphins cap--"in case we see some dolphins."
"Donuts?" he asked. This is the only early-morning incentive/reward that actually works on him.
I shrugged and said, "I don't know if the donut store is even open this early!"
"Yum Yum's open 24 hours," he replied. I don't know how he knew that, but he was right.
And so, by 5:10, donuts in hand, we were on the road.
"Look at the sunset!" I said, as the skies lightened up.
"Sun rise," Mark corrected.
I shrugged again. Being awake when this early is such a foreign concept, I don't even have the right vocabulary for it!
After a couple wrong turns, we made it to the docks and found the other Boy Scouts. They looked almost as happy as we did.
I rented a rod and reel for Mark, and purchased some lead weights (we've learned the hard way that weights really are a necessity). I tried posing Mark for a few quick photos, and this is where his mood visibly disintegrated.
"OK, no more," he finally declared, walking away.
I asked the dad in charge of the trip when to pick Mark up, and he graciously offered to drive him home. I was basking in how nice that was, when he added, "If I remember..." My gratitude immediately turned to worry.
"Make sure you stick to Zach's dad when you return," I told Mark. "Otherwise, you'll be chillin' on the docks till I get here." Mark nodded, and gave me a second look to see if I was kidding. I was not.
I raced back home to my bed, but when I got there, sleep eluded me. My body was tired and achy, but not enough to fall back asleep. It looked like I was in for a long day.
But I made the best of it. Maybe I couldn't sleep, but I could certainly clean, and it went a lot faster without a surly teenager continuously calling out, "It doesn't matter! Nobody cares if the house is clean!"
I did multiple loads of laundry, had the yard sprayed for black widows, went to a movie, lunch and a little shopping with Edra, and made it home moments before Mark did (yay, Zach's dad for remembering!).
"How was the trip?" I asked.
"Great!" Mark exclaimed. "I caught two fish and--dang it, I left them in Zach's car!"
If I said I wasn't a little relieved, I'd be lying. I have no idea how to cook rockfish or sand dabs.
"Did you get sea sick?" I asked. "Did you drink the ginger ale I sent?"
"No sea sick, yes, ginger ale," he said, licking his lips at the memory. "I ate a lot on the boat--the food was sooooo good."
I wasn't surprised--they'd been gone for 10 hours, and that kid can eat when he wants to.
"Did you have a burger?" I asked.
"TWO burgers!" he exclaimed. "And a grilled cheese sandwich, and two bags of chips, and a soda, and a Snickers bar."
"What!" I said. "So you didn't eat any snacks?"
"Oh, and I ate ALL my snacks!" he added. There were 20 granola bars in that bag--I couldn't believe he wasn't sick from all that!
He told me all about the boat, and the sea, and how he napped at the beginning and end of the trip. He told me about the fish everyone else caught.
"Some kids caught a bunch!" he said, frowning. "But I only caught two."
"Because you were busy eating the whole time!" I reminded him. "And sleeping."
"That's true," he said. "Still had fun, though."
He told me, excitedly, how big each fish was and how he'd paid the deckhands a dollar a fish to clean them (God bless those deckhands!). He told me his hat worked, and that they saw dolphins. He told me again about all the food he consumed, and how much fun he'd had with the other boys on the boat.
I smiled, taking it all in. This--this is why I sign you up for the trips, even when you don't want to go! I thought. But I didn't need to say it out loud--no sense in rubbing it in, or riling him up. Part of being his mom is expanding his horizons, even grudgingly--and the other part is reveling in his joy when it turns out he actually does like doing stuff other than just video games.
"It was a really good trip," he finished, rubbing his eyes. "I need a shower--I totally smell like squid!"
Fernando, who'd been sniffing around Mark's ankles, agreed.
"OK, get to it," I said, smiling and rubbing my own eyes.
Because at that moment, getting up at 4:45 a.m. on a Saturday, seemed totally worth it.
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