This summer Olaf has spent a lot of time camping. Three weeks to be exact. Well, it's been more than that considering he went again last night with the boys. But I should have known this would be my fate. The second time that I met him he had just come home from a campout with the Scouts. I met him in January. I should have known then and ran screaming. But I didn't. I thought it was cool for him to spend time volunteering with kids. Then came our wedding. We were married on a Friday. In August. At some point in the summer, of which there are twelve weeks, he had a week-long campout with the Boy Scouts at church. Of course it would fall on the week of our wedding. Did he go, you ask? Of course. He came home Thursday afternoon so he could attend our rehearsal dinner and the wedding the following day. I thought it was funny that the Boy Scouts were upset he wasn't returning that Friday night after the wedding. I should have known at that point what I was getting into. But I didn't have a clue. But I am thankful he has a wholesome hobby where he is working hard and giving back to the community.
Here is an old picture of him and his Boy Scout troop when he was quite young. I think this is from the 50-mile he went on one summer. I'll leave you to guess which one is him. I'll give you the answer Monday. Good Luck!