And this is why we are outdoor educators.

After a trip to Table Rock with the littlest TAASC members and a couple of brave parents, I was in a daze. That group has ten boys and three girls who are nine and ten years old. I was on edge as they wanted to run around on the top of a mountain with undefined cliff edges-- that is, the edge of the cliff might be right behind that lush strip of mountain laurel.

See photos below for details: we have the Lord of the Flies equipped with their bows and arrows or guns and the girls looking competent and entertained. The boys were really pretending to shoot like that off of the side of the side of Table Rock. At one point, after explaining that they couldn't do battle with the sticks (broken bones, splinters of wood in the eyes, et al) I found myself acquiescing and letting them pretend they were guns. Even though Alberto Gonzales thought I was going soft, I drew the line at water boarding.

After the trip I was at Neighbors' for a book club meeting and telling folks (who all have worked for taasc and outward bound at some point) about one incident. This is the incident:

We were on the summit and I had made it really clear that they either had to be with me or Shadow (my co-instructor) while up there. Because of those sneaky edges, if they had to go to the bathroom, they needed to tell us. After hanging out for a while, I noticed a couple of boys laughing and on the trail going down. I asked what they were up to and they laughed that one kid-- who I'll call Spratty-- was down the trail pooping in a bag.

KD: "A WAGS bag?" (Which is a bag designed for poop carry-out in heavily shoveled areas...)

Boys: "No, like a Walmart bag!"

KD: "Go back up to the top and stay with the group." They were still snickering and I didn't want Spratty to hear more of their teasing.

Dave had an extra WAGS bag in his pack that I brought down to meet little Spratty on the trail. I found him standing in the middle of the trail... Walmart bag still empty. I almost did an arm pump. I said, "This is a much better bag for poop," and didn't make a big deal about it. After explaining how to use it, we made a plan that he would stash it behind a bush on the trail and I'd pick it up when we hiked down. Inconspicuous and face-saving.

As I was telling this story, I ended with, "And it wasn't even that much poop! When I carried it down, it was so light..."

Beth pointed out, "Isn't it amazing that we all know what you are talking about and find this to be normal conversation? Like, 'Oh yeah, that poop was so little!'"