Worrying, that is.
Last night TheDad, Big Brother, and my father (known around here as Biking Grandpa to distinguish him from the other Grandpa) left with the Boy Scouts for a short bike trip along part of the C&O Canal towpath. The plan was: camp last night, break camp, bike 25 miles, have a tour of Antietam Battlefield, camp at a different location, and head home tomorrow.
Then the weather got hot. Real hot. I tried to extract promises of phone calls from them so I could make sure they were safe.
Finally around 7 this evening, I got that long-awaited call. Big Brother told me they were on the way HOME! No one got hurt or sick, but when they got to the second campsite and discovered the lack of shower facilities and the fact that they’d have to haul all their tents and everything 1/2 mile in 90+ degree weather after biking all day, and they heard the weather report of possible thunderstorms, they figured it was better to just head home tonight. Good choice, guys!
Biking Grandpa will sleep here tonight (Big Brother will “camp” in the family room so Grandpa can have his room) since my parents live 120 miles north of us.
I’m up uncharacteristically late because I will worry until they all get in the door. I’m the wife, and the mom, and the daughter. It’s my job.