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Awkward
History
Hi
my name is Scota Maccarthy, I'm 16 years old for
about 13 of those years I have been a rendezvous
girl, and a proud one at that. I enjoy doing this
and since I have a few more years under my belt
than even some of the adults out there, I thought
“Hey why not
write about some of my memories?”
Cause
some of them are pretty darn funny. So today
I’m going to write about some of my first Fort Bridger memories.
You see, the Maccarthy family didn't start out as a wall tent, a giant
fly, and equally large food production. We started out pretty small; a
lean to, couple of dutch ovens and the infamous wolfhounds. In the
mornings Mom (you may know her as Tracy) would try and help me get dressed
in a cute little jumper and petty coat, but me being me, would have a
rebellion against The Mom, while she would try to enforce her strict dress
code upon me ( just kidding mom...not really) I would be busy throwing a
tantrum. Then when the clothing war was over, the hair war would begin,
and much to content she would just re-braid it.
But
back then I didn't have a rebellious "tween" or teenage phase, I
had something far worse... a grumpy 5 year old phase and that phase
resulted in not having many little friends and the ones I did have usually
had four legs and couldn't speak English. So I can remember sitting by
Conan and telling him about a toy I saw and wanted or about the creepy
ladies on the bridge that were cruel and unyielding cheek pincher's. Then
later that day walking around with my dad in tow taking him to all my
favorite trade tents and showing him the toys I had previously told Conan
about.
After
that escapade we would head back to the campsite and dad would start a
fire and he would teach me the boy scout basic's to starting a fire...I
never really listened to him though, but hey can you blame me? I had
gotten that toy I really wanted and it was kinda more interesting at the
moment than how to start a fire (no offense Dad)
But
when we had eaten dinner and successfully put the fire out, I would be
settling down in my sleeping bag sandwiched in between my parents with
Conan laying on us all. Only for me to wake up to Conan breathing on my
face with his stinky dog breath in the middle of the night, I swear he did
that to me just because he couldn't get in my sleeping bag. Then after a
good 10 minutes of him breathing on me I would fall asleep again.
Only
to wake up grumbling the next morning, I would dig myself out of the nest
I had made and try to wear the same clothes as yesterday (this is were the
clothing battle comes in) Mom successful , as usual, in making me change
my clothes and insisting on my hair being brushed (how dare she!). Once
the hygiene routine had been completed I would go out into the world and
then quickly retreat to my little forest hide away, and act like I was a
fearsome knight ready to slay a dragon in it's den of highly flammable
sticks and brush only to retreat back into the forest because the dragon
sent minions after me.
That
was life , simple and always full of adventure , before two legged English
speaking friends came in , and before boys were even vaguely important
(they still aren't, just sayin'). It was simple and at times painful
(those evil cheek pincher's !) but it was always fun, that was just a
brief look back into my memories but it was one of the fonder ones.
Until
next time ,
Scota
Maccarthy
NAF
Ranger
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