Wednesday, April 27, 2011

What's on your plate, Mama???

Sharing a meal with Campbell is a little like eating with a loaded gun at your head. You just never know when she is going to flip out because: you are too slow cutting up the food, too stupid to figure out what her grunt and lunge means, or when she's had enough and the table gets cleared.

At this meal, my very own eating machine consumed: mussels, scallops, shrimp (with a very horseradish-y cocktail sauce), lump crab, bread (x10), egg, tomato, avocado, spinach, mashed potatoes, calamari, strawberry milk, strawberry shortcake, half of Rob's dessert, and part of a crayon.

It was a special night for Cam, as it was her first trip to the Yacht Club.  My Dad was a member from forever ago, and I spent MANY hours there learning to sail, ordering "free" cokes on my Dad's tab, and causing the Club to wonder how one kid could do so much damage to one brand-new 420 sailboat.  I hated sailing school, because it was four days a week, ALL. DAY. LONG.  When my friends were all home hanging at the pool, I was sitting in a boat doing anything but what was expected of me.  I never, ever won a race.  I learned how to sail fast enough to gain on the Midshipmen at the Naval Academy, so we could pelt them with water balloons (asshole little kids, we were).  I also learned that if you said you didn't feel well, you got to ride in the committee boat all day with the instructors, and drink Coke.

My Dad was an award winning sailor.  He had sailing down, it was his thing.  So on father/kid race night, who won all the races?  Yup, that's right.  Captain Bligh and his hapless mate.  The instructors were always dumbfounded.  Then they started to have....expectations.  If my old man was such a winner, and had the trophies to prove it, what was my problem?
The only award I won was for "Best at capsizing and recovery".  Meaning, I could flip a boat over, and get it upright like nobody's business.  Truth be told, whose boat would you want to be on?  The one with the sailor who could win the race?  Or the one who could save your ass if the boat turned over and took on water?   That's right.  And I'd even buy you a Coke.  On Dad's tab.

Cam, you have a lot to live up to.  Grammie is already counting down the days until she can enroll you in sailing school.  Here's the secret tab number...

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