The Watering

As I was saying, there was no toilet.

Mom needed a particular item from the camper during a morning service at the Youth Camp. She didn’t want to haul two boys out of the service and haul them back. My brother was around three-years-old, so she recruited me to get the item.

“Caleb, go get so-and-so from the camper.”

“Okay, momma.”

“And Caleb,” she grabbed my face, “Look at me.”
She wanted to get her point across.

I looked at her.

“If you go ANYWHERE else besides the camper, you are going to get it, young man. You go straight there and come straight back. Do you hear me?”

I nodded, “Yes, momma.”

I knew what “get it” entailed. “Get it” did not feel good. It included a belt, a bottom, and a good batter’s swing.

I exited the church building, intending to get to the camper, get the item, and get back to the church as quickly as possible.

I entered the camper door and retrieved the item. And in the middle of that simple act, my bladder summoned me. Strongly.

But there was not a toilet in sight. There weren’t any trees. There was no lake.

My first thought was to head to the boy’s dormitory and utilize those facilities.

But the thought was dismissed quickly as I remembered my mother’s words and the look in her eye when she said, “If you go anywhere else, you’ll get it.”

“Well, I’m at the camper.” I thought. “And if I’m anywhere outside the camper yet still beside the camper, I won’t get it.”

Walking with my legs crisscrossed, I made my way between our camper and the big fancy camper beside us. I hoped that, with service already halfway over, no one would come up the dirt road. And that whoever owned this big fancy camper would be in service, too.

They weren’t.

In the middle of my feeble attempt at watering the lawn, the big fancy camper door opened, and the Rev. So and So walked out.

My back was to him, but there was little doubt about what was happening.

I turned halfway around, “Sorry about this. My momma told me not to go anywhere else.”

“Son, you really oughta use a bathroom.”

“Maybe next time I can make it there.”

He went to the service.
I did, too, after I finished.

I went straight to my momma and told her what had happened. She was mortified.

“Why didn’t you just go to the bathroom?” She buried her face in her hands.

“You told me I would get it!”

“Oh, you can go to the bathroom!” She exclaimed. “I meant I didn’t want you to go somewhere and play.”

“Well, you didn’t say that.”

She had to get prayed through that day.

to those who need things spelled out for them,
– Caleb