The night before Brock's 6th grade camp

The post I did yesterday about Logan and his family,
reminded me of this.  I could never forget this story.
It still makes me shudder.

First I have to explain something.
This was back in 1989. For some reason my boys loved to eat raw carrots but only if they were very icy cold.  So I was in the habit of putting carrots on our dinner table packed in ice.

On this particular evening I was busy in the bedroom helping Brock pack for camp.  He would be leaving very early the next morning.  We had cleared the dinner dishes off the table but the rest of the carrots were still sitting there.  The ice was gone and now they were floating in water. 

I had gone back in the kitchen to get something and noticed McKay, age 5, and Tyler, 3, had climbed onto the top of the table and were soaking their bare feet in the water, complete with carrots floating all around their toes.  They were so happy, and it kept them entertained.  Back in those days this meant a few moments of peace.

So I went back to the packing.  The door bell rang.  I could tell by the deep voice that it was Grant Bybee....the Dad of one of Brock's best friends Matt, who would also be going to camp the next morning.  Brock's Dad had let him in and I could hear them chatting about their plans for camp.  Lots of talking and planning, while I was still helping Brock down the hall.

After quite some time, 20 minutes or so, I went out to say hi to Grant.  He and my husband were all sitting around the kitchen table.  McKay and Tyler had gone to play elsewhere in the house.  In other words they were no longer soaking their feet in the carrots.  But guess what?  Grant was sitting there eating carrot after carrot!!

I gasped, and just stood there staring.

I wanted to say something.  But the damage was already done.  He had already ate who knows how many dirty carrots.  If I told him, he would just worry about something that was over and done with.  So I didn't say anything. I reasoned it was the kinder thing to do. 

To this day I wonder if I should have spoken up.

A few days later I learned, Grant had to be rushed to the hospital from camp with severe stomach pains.  I was horrified! 

I later learned it was kidney stones.  Well as far as I know, that has nothing to do with eating dirty carrots.

And, I did tell Grant many years later what happened that night.  Years down the road, who would care. 

But still, when I hear about 6th grade camp, anybody's 6th grade camp, I still picture Grant eating those dirty feet soaked carrots.