Thursday, July 10, 2008
A Phone Call From Camp and A Letter From Camp
When your kids are at camp, the LAST phone number you want to see on your phone is the camp's number. Camps don't call to say "hi" or to tell you about a great sale they ran into at the mall. They don't call to ask you to meet them for lunch or to take a walk. No, calls from camp are usually bad news. The last time I got a call from camp it was Boy #1's first summer there and it was the day before Visiting Weekend. He was going for 4 weeks and we were going up for Visiting Weekend and then bringing him home. I was coming back from a girls' trip with some of my peeps and my cell phone rang. I saw the caller ID and my heart started to pound. "Hi, it's Jane the camp director," she said, "Everything's fine.......but.....Boy #1 fell and we think he broke his wrist." Um, so then everything's NOT fine is it? Boy #1 HAD broken his wrist. Luckily, or unluckily, he had broken the same wrist a year or two before, so I was somewhat familiar with broken bone protocol.
Anyway, today, strangely enough--the day before Visiting Weekend-- my cell phone rang, and the camp's name popped up on the screen. Uh-oh. Pounding heart. A man's voice--one I barely recognized--said, "Hi Mom." OK, at least I know he's alive. "Hi, Boy #1," I said. "Nothing's wrong, Mom, I'm OK. Everything's fine." Clearly, he had been coached. "Are you sure?" I asked. "Well, maybe something's a little wrong," he said. "What happened?" I asked. "I did something stupid and let one of my cabinmates cut my hair and one of my sideburns is all cut off," he said, "so I want to know if they can take me into town and get a haircut or a buzz cut." I don't think I have ever been so relieved. If he had asked me if he could shave his head at that moment I would probably have said yes. "Sure," I said, "but don't get a buzz cut unless you really want one--remember--you have 4 weeks of camp left and it will have grown back by then and there will be something to work with. You can just have them even it out. And if you want to wait til tomorrow we can go and get your hair cut then." "No, I want to go today," he said. "And, Boy #1," I added. "Yes, Mom?" he asked. "Don't let anyone near your head with scissors, razors, or shavers, OK?"
Letter from Boy #2 which arrived today:
Dear Mom, Camp is awesome! We have started the Spectacular (competition). I am a Dayton Flyer (team). Boy #1 got a haircut and it looks bad. I can't wait to see you! Love, Boy #2