Lazing On A Sunny Afternoon

Paula's grandchildren are with us, and so I have been driven into the woods to find some small measure of peace. It's not that I mind kids, especially little ones, but I am missing my own little kids and it's just a little too much salt in that wound. Plus the fact that you've got all of my posse, her five grandkids and assorted hangers-on in four very small buildings, and that makes for a lot of activity.
I have found my bit of peace on the high ground overlooking the swimming hole. There are two relatively stout trees there, and the boys strung a hammock between them. I lie in the leafy shade and watch the kids splashing and whooping and doze. This, I tell myself, is what I came here for: peace, relative quiet, serenity... and maybe some decent sleep.
The kids have a paintball armageddon planned for tomorrow night, and I am trying as well to rest up so I can play too. I don't really understand war, and I don't idealize aggression or brutality, but conflict on the clan level I can relate to quite well. It will be my boys and Paula's sons against a veritable tribe of country boys who live nearby and are all closely (incestuously, even) related, and the boys have talked of nothing but the fun and glory of an all out battle. I make ready in my own way: I read (Sun Tszu, Machiavelli, Rommel) and I discuss tactics with Amber and Ricky, who will be leading the fight. My boys are mostly into full frontal beserker attacks, but Amber is beginning to have a feel for subtlety, and it's possible that we'll try some booby traps and perhaps a hostage situation. All good fun.
I hear disturbing things from town, but I am doing my best not to care. I have covered my own ass and warned those who would listen, and now it's on them. I'm camping, so screw them, right?

Title lyric from "Sunny Afternoon" by The Kinks. (Sorry, I can't get to YouTube from Robbie's phone.)