The Cree Princess Diaries....




This weekend, we started a fire at our campsite, and a few of the other families joined us for s'mores. I am just in the process of getting to know all of them, and at this point wasn't even clear of all their names.
The Cree Princess came to me to help her load her s'more, and in the process became very messy, and between the two of us managed to drop the gooey marshmallow on the baseball cleat of the "man" sitting next to us.
I laughed and apologized, and he blew me away......"No problem ",he said, "you can take the Indian out of the reservation but you can't take the reservation out of the Indian", and took another pull on his beer.
I reacted immediately and badly.
I asked him to leave. Now. Not quietly and not nicely.
While he loudly protested he was just joking, I bundled up my kids and took them into the camper. By then the whole campsite was buzzing, a few who had heard his comment and all who had heard my outburst.
He still had not left, wanting to make nice or at least redeem himself,
"Sorry, I didn't know she was yours" he said, picking away at the gooey marshmallow on his laces.
I grabbed a napkin.
"Let me help you" I said as I reached down and ground the remaining marshmallow into the eyelets of his shoe ,as I quietly said " if you come anywhere near me and mine EVER, I will tear your tongue out of your foul mouth and shove it down your throat."
Surprisingly, the crowd cleared, soon afterwards, and after the children were in bed,
I sat there watching the burning embers ,my anger as hot as the coals.
The coals have long burned themselves out, but my anger remains.