Mt Katahdin
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Wednesday is Mattís night to cook dinner and he usually barbeques on our dubious gas grill. Tonight he invited Robby to help and they both ate Boca Burgers as they waited for the chicken to cook.
Earlier they had to toss out a box of meal moth infested Rice Pilaf.

At the dinner table:

Robby. ìI ate maggots once.î
Matt glanced over at Robby, ìNice.î
Me. ìMost of the world eats bugs.î
Robby. ìWhen I got through eating I wasnít bothered at all. I guess it means I donít mind eating bugs.

I thought, great dinner conversation.

Me. ìWhen are we going to Gilsum next? We canít this weekend and next weekend is Annieís Bat Mitzvah. How about the weekend after that?î

Matt. ìSure.î

We usually leave at 3PM, after his shift at Skipís, but with the sun setting at 6 in those hills….

Me. ìYou should call in sick on that Saturday.î

Diane. ìHe canít call in sick.î

Me.í Tell Skip you canít work that weekend.î

Diane. ìThatís different, thatís not calling in sick.î

Robby. ìBut calling in sick is the only way heíll be sure of getting the
day off.î

Me. ìIíll bring one of my new lanterns so you can have light at your camp site.î

Matt. ìWeíll build a big fire; we wonít need more light.î

Me. ìYour fires are so big the earth doesnít need the sun.î

Matt, deadpan. ìGood one, dad.î

Matthew purees me and all I can do is laugh. The kind of laugh that speaks to how narrow the margins have become. I would have gotten away with that six weeks ago.

Matt. ìNo, really, I meant it.î

Me. ëYeah, Iím sure you did.î