Here's to New Experiences

My first camping trip ended with my mom pulling a stick out of my eye. At least that's what I was told. I was only three years old so I didn't remember. Until they told me that I had no idea why I hated the outdoors. I never played sports. I had no extra curricular activities. I was a dedicated couch potato. Who knew that all this time it was because of a child hood trauma. I actually had a valid excuse for my sedentary existence.

I never would have found out if my parents didn't ask me to help them move. They were getting to the age when the kids have left home and it was time to cash out and buy a condo. The problem with having your children help you move is that they work really hard until they stumble onto their childhood toys. They were working hard without me for the better part of an hour before they found me in the attic playing with my Ghostbusters action figures in Castle Greyskull because at some point I decapitated all my He-Man dolls.

My parents set up a box outside the front door if there was anything I wanted to keep for myself. So I got back to work. Legos, hockey cards, Van Halen mixed tapes, in the box they went. Getting back to my apartment was going to be like reliving a dozen Christmases.

Now I have to say that my girlfriend is very tolerant of my lifestyle. She hikes, does yoga, rides a bike to work. All the things that I never do. So when she walked into the living room to see me sitting cross legged with legos spread out over the length of the floor, it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. She didn't tell me it was junk. She didn't scold me for bringing home more stuff we don't need. I sometimes feel guilty that she's understanding and I'll never even consider going on a camping trip with her.

She got very excited when she found an old photo album mixed in with the box of toys. I try to avoid having my picture taken at all costs, so I can only assume that my mother slipped that album in there without me knowing about it.

After the requisite "oohs" and "aahs" and "you were so cute!" comments she drew my attention to a picture that I had never seen before.

"Why are you wearing an eye patch?" she asked.

"I don't know," I said, "I don't recall having a pirate phase."

"No, this isn't a toy. It's definitely a medical eye patch," she said.

I called my mother to get the dirt on my mysterious childhood accident.

"Oh that," my mother explained nonchalantly over the phone. "When we went on a camping trip when you were little you walked into a bush and got a stick in your eye."

"Wait," I said, "I went camping? And what do you mean in my eye? In my eyeball?"

"No, it was sort of stuck in between your eyeball and your eyelid."

"Gross!" I exclaimed, "So I had to go to the hospital to get it out."

"No, I just pulled it out myself."

"You pulled it out yourself! You could've blinded me!"

"Oh it wasn't that bad," she explained. "Besides we were in the woods in Maine and you were freaking out. You wouldn't have stayed calm during the ride to the hospital. You would've hurt yourself even worse."

"Did I need stitches or anything?" I asked.

"No, you weren't even bleeding. The doctor just gave you eye patch so you wouldn't scratch if it got swollen."
"I can't believe you never told me about this," I said. "This is probably why I hate doing anything outdoors. I'm emotionally scarred."

After being told to stop being so dramatic I hung up the phone and relayed the story to my girlfriend. I watched her jaw drop to the floor when I uttered three words that had never come out of my mouth in that order.

"Let's go camping."

When we got to the campsite I actually enjoyed taking in the scenery. I had never appreciated nature in such a way before. It might seem like a drastic turn around for me to be enjoying the outdoors when I don't even like The Discovery Channel, but I don't like to be controlled by my fears, even if I didn't know it was a fear that was keeping me away. Oh, and it would be sweet rub it in to my mother that she deprived me of a lifetime of activities because of something she kept a secret.

"I'm so glad you're here," my girlfriend said.

"I am too," I said. I meant it too.

The first day of hiking was amazing. We fished. We swam. We saw the sunset. It was a whole new experience for me. As we lied down in our tent I felt a strong sense of satisfaction that I overcame a fear from my childhood.

I rose with the sun the next morning. I climbed out of the tent and took a rewarding stretch and went to find a spot to relieve myself. Unfortunately, when the job was done and I stood up I failed the see the low hanging tree branch right in front of my face. My second camping trip ended with my girlfriend pulling a stick out of my eye.