|"Ok, campers. Who wants to earn their anxiety badge?"|
Summer pretty much has me by the horns.
Between keeping my pack of kids afloat at the pool and screaming at the dog to stop throwing himself against the back door like some sort of mental patient trying to break in, I may be losing my mind just a tiny bit.
And while we're on the subject, WHY?
Why do dogs do that? Like Flea before him, Ned Yost grabs every opportunity to take a running start and slam his entire weight into the glass like the Zombie Apocalypse has started and I've left him to make a last stand against the undead.
(More on that as I lose all rational thought. Feel free to email me answers. Or adopt my Labrador. Whatever.)
One month in to the hottest season of the year, and it's starting to seem like I run some sort of deranged summer camp for people who are related to me. Let's count the ways, shall we?
1. Activites Start At Dawn
I don't have anyone who can play a bugle, but the baby yelling unintelligible baby things before the sun's up suffices. Put those shorts on. Brush those teeth. Grab that screaming ball of fat, toss her a bottle and get ready to start another day.
I try to whisper the camp motto to myself before grabbing my lanyard. "Camp Kellerman, we love thee. Where laughter turns to tears, and everything's covered in pee."
2. The Mess Hall
Great! Just in time for some vittles. Unfortunately, there's no camp chef because that's me. And I can't cook. Instead, I yell, "Children, report to breakfast. I'm about to make it rain Pop Tarts. Take some extra for your fanny packs and let's hit this day like a mallet on croquet ball."
The baby's on dish duty because that's what happens when you wake me up at 5am. "Not walking is no excuse for not pre-rinsing the glasses," I say pointedly
When you run a summer camp, there has to be some type of craft. Corn husk dolls, yarn bread boxes, it really doesn't matter. I try to get creative and let the kid's imagination take the lead. I feel sorry for people who don't have children who can turn five rolls of toilet paper into spackle and make a towel into toilet paper instead.
Sunday's activity of cutting all the socks in half to make gloves was also a huge hit.
*Stay tuned for a donation link at the end to fund new socks for Fall 2016.
4. Water Sports
Everything at Camp Kellerman is perpetually covered in water, so why not make it interesting? Sundance came up with this week's latest:
"We're doing a pool party."
"Where?" I ask hopefully.
"In my bedroom. It's all wet."
"Next to breakable electronics and outlets, I assume?"
5. Sleep With One Eye Open
Ahh, pranks, one of camp's oldest traditions. The fabulous thing about Camp Kellerman is the certainty of being ambushed, anytime, anywhere. This is an area where Doc truly excels. This year, he's earned badges for:
Painting the bathroom wall in toothpaste
Turning on the garbage disposal and giving me a heart attack
Unloading an entire chess set into the air vent. Checkmate, indeed.
Winning most precocious three-year-old with lines such as, "Sometimes I like you. But sometimes I don't."
6. Nature's Toilet
Sometimes you have to rough it. Sometimes you pee in the backyard, despite extremely accessible plumbing. My apologies to the garbage man who was flashed this week. There was an emergency camp meeting after this particular incident.
I miss being somewhere else but I'm not sure where that is, yet.
8. Camp Counseling
Many grievances were aired this week....
Me: So you say he punched you in the face. How do you feel about that?
Camper: I flushed his Legos down the toilet.
Me: Ok. Let's address the aggression, right after I go find ladle we don't need.
Camper: Sorry. I probably shoulda just pushed him down the stairs.
Me: Can I interest you in making a yarn breadbox instead?
9. Whistle Blowing
I don't technically have a whistle, but when I yell enough, it turns into kind of a whistling wheeze everyone stops listening to. Two gasps means I'm dying.
10. It's Still Fun
No schedule for three months and days full of possibilities aren't the worst. Camp Kellerman is a hot mess, but this counselor kind of likes it that way.
Except the dog part.
That might kill me.
Until Next Time, Readers!
And now that I've awkwardly made you my friend, come hang out with me on: