Tonight Jim and the three older kids are participating in a camp-out for Malaria Awareness. Yes, outside. With temperatures that probably will stay in the low 30s. In a parking lot, no less, to make themselves more visible than if they had camped in the Lions Park area that is set off the main road a bit. Jim had several church members interested, so there will be a small but hardy crew out there.
Samuel, it must be said, was NOT enthused about the idea.
He asked me to let him get out of it. I deferred to his father, who said Samuel *was* camping.
He offered to watch babies tonight so I could go, if that would get him out of it. Um, no thanks.
He asked what happened if he threw up, if that would get him out of it (and then asked if we had syrup of Ipecac). Ha, ha, darling.
So he grumpily went along and will likely continue to grump as he shivers all night.
This is where the post title comes in. Should I have been more sympathetic and asked Jim to consider giving Samuel a break? Should I have given him some sage hard-earned advice regarding what life has to teach us through adversity? Should I have kept quiet (as I mostly did) and let the scenario play out as it would?
After all, whatever doesn't