Well, spiritually, anyhow. My back and sides still ache from sleeping (or, trying to) on a malfunctioning air mattress and I can feel the start of a cold from the chilly rain we encountered with the Cub Scouts out there this morning. Mr. B., with the resilience of youth, shrugged it all off. I remember. This sort of adversity used to be fun when I was young. Everything is fun when you’re young.
I did not actually climb the rock’s pink granite dome this time. I took a nap in our tent, instead. The other older father, about ten years younger than me, did climb. He contrived to fall about five feet in a cave the boys were exploring. He landed on his back and spent the rest of the trip hobbling about. I expect to be fully recovered from my aches and pains by Tuesday night. Next year’s trip, after which Mr. B. will be a Boy Scout, will be my last. The Boy Scouts don’t mind if parents come on their campouts but it’s not encouraged. Mercifully.
THE TEXAS SCRIBBLER 
Everything is fun when you’re young – aside of the school hours, of course.
True. School spoils it real good.