The Bompey Bus Comes to Town

From somewhere far back in the annals of time, my little boy Peter renamed my dad from "Grandpa" to "Bompey". I have no idea where the name came from, since there doesn't seem to be any similarities, but as I'm not proficient in understanding the minds of little boys (big boys either, for that fact, just ask Handyman, lol!), I just had to go with the flow and accept the harsh reality that my dad is now, "Bompey".

Therefore, when my kids saw Bompey and Grammy pull up to our house two weeks ago in their new RV, the kids both immediately christened the RV the "Bompey Bus".

What a great time we all had together! It was really nice hanging out with my parents for a week, and extra nice to get a break now and then from the 24 hour job of taking care of three little kids! (Notice, I don't include Handyman in there, because he's not little.)

I'm sure my Mum hated every minute of it. Look how she suffered.

Hee hee, I know it's naughty of me, but I just couldn't resist taking a picture of my Mum's coffee mug. I tried to snap a photo of her drinking from it, but as it was still early and she was in her nightie, I wasn't quick enough. My Mum can be unbelievably spry in the morning. Perhaps that's due to the amount of coffee she consumes . . . ?

Since the Bompey Bus was so handy for camping, we all packed up our stuff and headed to a nearby state park for two days of "roughing it" (ha ha!) in the dangerous wild.

Especially popular was a little playground with an obliging creek nearby. Peter's friends were there, too, so for awhile we had some scantily clad children running around.

Baby Gabe pretty much slept the whole time. He's very good at that. I think the nursing problem I'm still having with him is due to him being in a semi-comatose state 24 hours a day. Here he is zonked out on a beautiful hand made quilt my sister bought for him. As usual, he's stylin'!

Frankly, the only dangerous wildlife I saw out there was my brother Nathan and cousin Kyle. Teenage boys are dangerous in themselves, but put two of them together and it's just asking for trouble in the most bizarre fashion.

The state park had a beautiful lake with a nice swimming hole that had been graded to make it safe for kids. Peter and Breanna enjoyed splashing around in the water. At least, Peter did. Breanna had fun until she "drowned" (i.e. fell in the water and got her head wet).

My daughter is such a drama queen. Ask her how her swimming experience went, and she immediately states in no uncertain terms that, "I drowned". I wonder where she got that from?

Must be from Handyman's side of the family. I'm much to sedate and practical.