Pancakes to Go

I’ve just been dying to tell you this story since last summer! So remember our camping trip to Community (or Lake Hill) if you aren’t a local? I want to give you a few more details. The Dog Walker is always responsible for packing up everything for us when we go camping since he loves to camp and me…not so much. I make a long detailed list and then he heads out in the garage, gathers up everything and stows it in the van.

This particular trip was no different. After he was finished and nearly everything was crossed off the list, I quizzed him on the particulars. Did he pack the charcoal… lighters…hot dog sticks? How about the Volcano…the huge frypan…and the griddle for the pancakes? Check, check, and doublecheck…he had it all. Perfect, nothing for me to worry about but the clothing and coolers.

Fast forward to our campsite and unloading the van…the Dog Walker was setting up our tent and my sweetie and I were unloading the food and necessaries for the camp fire. That’s when I came across the “griddle” that he had packed. It was still in the box which would have been OK, except that this was an electric griddle I had purchased for the Gym Rat for Christmas rather than the little camping griddle that fits over the burners of the camp stove.


I called the Dog Walker over and asked him how he was planning to scare up a little electricity…was he going to plug it into a tree? He sheepishly shrugged his shoulders and went back to blowing up air mattresses. My sweetie and I giggled a little longer as we attempted to rearrange the menu now that pancakes were not possible.

Living life with an autistic is fun because you never really can figure out exactly how their brain works. After a few minutes it dawned on me that Teach was driving up by herself early in the morning and we could have her grab the griddle as well as the half dozen other things I had forgotten. I sent her a quick text (thank goodness we were low enough in the canyon to still have service). She responded with a “no problem” so we settled down and went back to enjoying our campfire.

Pioneers?

It was fairly early when we heard Teach’s tires crunching on the gravel road leading up to the campsite. We were excited to see her and grateful that she was safe. After a quick hug, we walked to the trunk of her brand new car (well, new to her anyway) to unload. She popped the trunk with her fancy new key and the first thing I saw was the griddle. I nearly fell down laughing…she had grabbed the griddle that I bought for the Drama Queen for Christmas…it looked just like the one for the Gym Rat. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “I thought you wanted the griddle.” She still didn’t get it.

No, she’s not autistic, she’s just blond.