Is that a bush?

Michael is not a conventional kid. He and his long time friends - Teddy & Roman since kindergarten - had decided that they wanted to play in the woods with air-soft guns and shoot plastic pellets at one another. One birthday party at paint ball and they were hooked on this outdoor adventure in pretend warfare. They spent the entire summer between grade 7 and 8 building a field just behind the graveyard in the neighbourhood. At one point they had even set up a web-site to sell tickets for others to use their guns and the field. I guess they figured they could make some money. I don't think that ever happened.

Anyway, the upshot of the above information is that part of this game is being able to hide effectively. I remember even when he was still in elementary school, being able to sneak up on me and scare me was a very big deal. As he got older and played video games that included 'hiding' - mostly war games; yes I know... you can judge me if you want, but boys will make guns out of rocks (mine did out of Lego), I just figured that they might as well actually play with 'real' ones - he began to call this technique 'stealth' or the even cuter 'stealthing' (I love it when they say things that aren't words and insist that they are). This new game of air-soft required more sophistication than just being ultra quiet while lying in the grass or hiding behind a tree or bush. This began Michael's search for a better way to hide. He found one and had to have it. It took him a couple of months of saving his paper route check, but he bought a $100 ghillie suit from the local military and outdoor supply store. Really, you should see this thing. When he's wearing it you really have to wonder - is that a bush?

One afternoon we had the youth group at our house for a BBQ and some gaming fun. Michael's air-soft buddies came late just as the fun was winding down. Before I knew it they were no where to be found and I was saying goodbye to all the other guests and the youth leaders on my own. I was standing on the driveway chatting with our youth pastor and one youth sponsor. Suddenly Michael and his friend Teddy came running down into our cul-de-sac. They looked scared and were yelling and carrying on about something I could not understand.

"What is going on?" I grabbed Michael by the shoulders to hold him still.
"We were playing in the intersection," gasping for air he continued, "taking turns wearing the ghillie suit and pressing the walk sign to stop traffic and then freak-out the stopped cars as we'd run through the crosswalk."
"You were what!?"
"Mom, it's fine; but one guy got really mad and he's coming after us."

This conversation went a whole lot quicker than that; because within ten to fifteen seconds a car came riping into our street and pulled into the driveway. Michael and Teddy quickly got behind me - as if I could save them. His window was rolled down and his entire torso sticking out the top portion of the door. Now, if you don't like swearing, don't read the next line.

"What the f*%k was that thing! I'm gonna kill you a$$holes!" He really was mad.

"Excuse me, is there something I can help you with?" I tried to sound calm.

I didn't even address his first question hoping that he would see that I was older than him and decide to turn and leave. He proceeded to explain to me how this walking bush scared him half to death and that he wanted to get his hands on whoever that was because it wasn't funny. But he apparently couldn't find the walking bush; it had disappeared. He saw these two behind me running, so he chased them. I was about to say something brilliant in regards to his query and how he should deal with it when something caught my eye. I couldn't help but look up as the walking bush came bounding into the cul-de-sac. It had been Roman's turn to scare the innocent motorists, and in true style he was not just walking into view but literally bouncing from one foot to the other like a frolicking sasquatch.

Our irate friend in the car saw my eyes wonder to the top of the street and was off.
"There's the little f#@%*r! Now I'll get you!"

I didn't know what to do. His car squealed around the circle and back to the top of our street. Roman bounced into the empty lot directly across from our house and lay flat on his stomach. I don't know why the driver didn't get out and go in and find him. All he did was stop, try and see him on the ground, swear something about not being able to see him, and then drove away. I was relieved.

Now remember, the youth pastor is still standing there with one of his youth sponsor. I turn and looked at him and his eyes were wide open.

"Don't worry about it. This happens all the time. Really... never a dull moment around here." I think maybe he didn't believe me. Then again, if he did, that might be worse.