I started talking to my boys about church camp months ago. This was the one year that they could both go to the same camp during the same week. The little guy would have come home one day earlier, but still...it was the SAME WEEK. Does any other mother out there see the benefit of that?!
My husband and I loved camp when we were kids. In fact, that is where we met for the first time ever. Granted, he "dated" my best friend...or they were "going together"...or whatever it is that we called it at that age, but still, that is where our first memories are of each other.
We looked forward to camp every summer, and we wanted our kids to have that experience as well.
But the older child wasn't having it. He did not think that going away to camp sounded all that fun. We encouraged him like crazy, even up to the point that he asked if we were trying to get rid of him.
We backed off just a smidge after that.
The youngest child, however, thought camp sounded great. At least he did as soon as he read "riflery" and "archery" on the camp brochure. I am fairly certain that he wanted to go to church camp simply to shoot a gun and a bow.
So we took the leap. We signed up the little guy and let the older kid stay at home. Weird, I know.
We packed him up and sent him on his way. I forgot to take a camera with me for the send off from church. I wanted to take him to camp myself, but I knew that the possibility of him changing his mind and getting scared was greater if I would have been there. So I blew him a kiss and sent him on his merry way.
I was nervous.
Nervous that he would think that camp was one big lizard-hunting experience and he would always be wandering away from his group.
Nervous that he would get frustrated by something and his behavior would be a bit less than desirable.
Nervous that he would come home in the same clothes he wore to camp, with a bagful of clean, untouched stuff.
This morning I picked him up. He had a great time. When I asked him what his favorite thing was, it kept changing....horseback riding, shooting the gun, swimming...and eating. The food, and I quote, "was A-MA-ZING."
He loved his counselor.
The picture is dark, but there was a whole lot of muscle flexing and laughing going on.
Here is a better one.
I talked to his counselor all of 2 minutes today when I loaded up the camp gear. I am pretty sure he was a perfect fit for my little guy. It's amazing how God works out those details.
When I walked into the cabin, the counselor told my son to "show mom how organized and ready to go you are". I had to pause for a moment to realize that he actually used my son's name and the word 'organized' in the same sentence.
I thought about sending him home with his counselor for a few more weeks of training.
I really wish I had pictures of the day I sent him off to camp to prove to him that those shorts are the exact same ones he wore on Monday when he left. When I stuck him in the bathtub tonight, I realized that the underwear were the same, too. Oh my.
He promised me that he did actually change his clothes during camp, and that he must have just put these back on today. At least the shirt and socks were different.
In the grand scheme of life, it doesn't really matter. But I couldn't resist asking him if he ever showered at camp.
"Yep," he said, "my counselor made me."
To which I just had to laugh.
It's actually possible since I sent two towels to camp and he only came home with one. Or...the towel could still be at the swimming pool with the goggles that didn't come home either.
On the bright side, he is the proud new owner of a Nike sock...that has no match. So sorry to the kid who this actually belongs to.
Right away he told me that he wanted to go back to camp next year. An hour later, he said he had possibly changed his mind because there was no free time to catch lizards, and he couldn't take the wildlife home anyway.
I, for one, am ALL for that rule. If that is the worst that camp has to offer, I'd say his rookie year was a success!
I don't even want to know if he ever brushed his teeth.
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