Chopstork

In elementary school at NIS in Japan we’d go on a week-long camping trip to Kazuno every year as a class. It wasn’t really camping; we stayed at a sweet cabin, and it had just been renovated too. The days were filled with hikes and local field trips and activities, and at night we’d hang out by a camp fire, go on night hikes, and play flashlight tag. Everyone took turns on cleaning duty and cooking duty each day. One night, I had said I wanted to pour the water on the fire to put it out. By the time I went to bed, I had forgotten about it. One of the teachers remembered and came to get me to put the fire out, since I had wanted to. But I was already in my pajamas, and I had packed some old red ones that I didn’t like anymore, so I really didn’t want to. I was too embarassed to say I didn’t want to, so I went anyway, and someone saw me in my ratty pajamas and said they could see my underwear through my pajamas, and I was even more embarrassed. I hate my old red pajamas, even in Australia.

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This entry was posted on Tuesday, April 4th, 2006 at 10:43 pm and is filed under childhood stories. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.