On Saturday, I accidentally called my camper’s mom. Four
times. I really hope I didn’t leave any messages and I also hope she didn't hear me say the f word. She texted me very nicely—there was
a smiley face—informing me that I had been pocket dialing her all day. Mortifying. Today at camp I asked the camper about it. "Hey kiddo, did your mom tell you how I butt dialed her four times on Saturday?" "Yeah, she did." He didn't seem to care.
In an interesting turn of events, I went to the gym before camp on Monday. I had to borrow a lock for my locker and with no pocket, I clipped the key onto my pants. When I went to get changed for work, I couldn’t find the key. After I searched and searched, they eventually had to cut the lock with a lock cutter. Forty minutes later I got to work and felt something between my spandex and my shorts; the key. My apologies, Wilmette Park District.
In an interesting turn of events, I went to the gym before camp on Monday. I had to borrow a lock for my locker and with no pocket, I clipped the key onto my pants. When I went to get changed for work, I couldn’t find the key. After I searched and searched, they eventually had to cut the lock with a lock cutter. Forty minutes later I got to work and felt something between my spandex and my shorts; the key. My apologies, Wilmette Park District.
The other day, my campers and I were walking to the pool. The older ones, who are 8 and 7, were talking on and on about Minecraft. I'm not at all familiar with the game. All I know is that it has to do with mines and kids are obsessed with it. So we are walking and Camper 1 goes to Camper 2, "are you thinking of doing some work in Washington D.C.?" Confused, I asked them what they were talking about to which they responded, impatiently, "Minecraft!" I laughed and proceeded to make jokes about the game and how crazy it sounded. Later, as we were leaving the pool, Camper 1 says something along the lines of: "Can you not ask us so many questions about Minecraft on the way back? Can you just let us talk about it?" Seven-year-olds are rough.
Except, that's also the camper that told me another counselor needed to go to manners school. He then said this in a beautifully honest and reflective voice: "you know, if your kids aren't athletic, they aren't athletic. It's not a big deal." By 'your kids' he meant a counselor's campers and he was completely right. Kids are annoying. But they are also great. I'm glad camp is ending but I'll miss those annoying little dweebs.
Except, that's also the camper that told me another counselor needed to go to manners school. He then said this in a beautifully honest and reflective voice: "you know, if your kids aren't athletic, they aren't athletic. It's not a big deal." By 'your kids' he meant a counselor's campers and he was completely right. Kids are annoying. But they are also great. I'm glad camp is ending but I'll miss those annoying little dweebs.
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