You want to make sure you get your money’s worth when you send a kid to camp, so once Drew returned we had all sorts of questions for him. He’s not the talkative type. We took all three boys out for pizza and waited until Finn and Porter were off playing pinball before we began the interrogation. How was the food? Who were his friends? Did he get homesick? What were his favorite activities?
We got the most shocking response when Bill asked, “What was the most exciting thing that happened while you were there?”
“Well, camp has this goat, and I don’t really know why, but it hangs out with the horses, so I saw the goat a lot since I ride horses a lot. One day they had to take the goat to get his balls chopped off.” Drew dissolved into naughty giggles.
Finn wandered back and slid into the booth next to me.
“You didn’t watch them do it, did you?” I asked, wondering if the camp was more rustic than I’d previously thought.
“No, they took him to a goat doctor and he cut off the goat’s balls.”
Finn clapped his hands and laughed. “Nothing like that ever happened when I was at camp. Maybe I should have gone instead of playing baseball.”
“What’s even funnier is the reason they had to chop off his balls,” Drew said.
“It’s more polite to say that the goat was neutered, honey,” I said.
“Why did they have to chop off the goat’s balls? I mean, neuter him?” Finn asked, although I was pinching his thigh in a way that clearly meant “Do not pursue this topic because I have not explained the facts of life to your brothers and I’m sure not going to get into it here at La Dama before our pizza arrives.”
“They said you have to do that so the goat won’t pee himself,” Drew said matter of factly.
“You mean the goat will pee on himself if they don’t chop—neuter him?” Bill asked. “That’s what they said?”
“Sure.” Drew was still giggling and Finn was covering his eyes with his hands while he shook. “Why?”
“I just wanted to make sure they were giving you good information,” Bill said.
Two years ago in My Tiny Kingdom: From The Mail Box: Finn At Camp
I’m thrilled to have escaped chez Glamore, as it’s been a hectic week. Porter evidently felt that with Drew at camp he had to do twice as much talking, although Drew is the quietest boy I have and it took about a week before I really noticed his absence and started missing him.
Each morning Porter and Finn have been at Bible School, and though Porter told all the teachers he was Drew the first day, the next two days he filled out his nametag “Mr. Glamore” and refused to answer to anything else.
This morning I packed my bags and hit the road to pick Drew up from camp. All the evidence I’ve seen so far in the form of pictures and letters lead me to conclude he’s not going to be glad to see me. He seems to be equally enamored of the horses and a counselor named Justin, and won’t want to live without them. We’re zoned for extra males, so Justin is welcome, but we’re not zoned for horses. Plus, I force Drew to change into clean clothes and brush his teeth every day, so he’ll have a big adjustment to make.
I’m currently in Traveler’s Rest, S.C. I listened to my entire repetoire of Better Than Ezra songs on my way up here, and relived the two times I’ve seen them live, once with the girls in New Orleans at the House of Blues, and once with Drew at the Crawfish Boil. I keep wondering when I’m going to be too old for concerts, but I just purchased Maroon 5/Counting Crows tickets for the whole family so apparently I have a few months left in me yet.
Speaking of music, I mentioned to Finn that John Mellencamp had a music career under the name “John Cougar” and he didn’t believe me. I’d always heard that his record label made him use the “catchier” (?) Cougar, but given the names bands and singers have today, Finn wasn’t having any of it.
He had some monry for iTunes, and surprised me on the way to church by playing “Jack and Diane” which he deemed “pretty cool.” I surprised him, in turn, by singing every word of the song, even the part where Jack and Diane climb in the backseat of the car and start disrobing, and he blushed.
I’d love to stay and chat, but I located a Jazzercise class in nearby Taylors, S.C. and no kidding, I’m going.
What I wrote on Deep South Moms Blog: 8 Ways I Tricked My Kids Into Reading
The letters we get from Drew at camp are often a mixture of alarming and reassuring.
Your not aloud to have candy at camp. I miss Skittles. Also i need some cortusone really bad.
I’ve started jumping on horses. You trot over ground poles in 2 point then jump over a pole then canter. Last nite I got sick and had 105. The nurse gave me some medisin.
He doesn’t look sick to me.
One year ago in My Tiny Kingdom: Our House Is A Killing Field
Drew leaves for camp tomorrow. He’ll be gone for three weeks. I don’t usually get terribly sentimental, but that moment when I drop him off can be pretty hard. Two years ago he looked like the last photo in this post and I got a little teary.
We all survived, however, and it’s hard to believe it’s time for camp again already.
The most heinous aspect of preparing for camp is the part where you set out all the camping equipment, shorts and pants, towels and underwear, and make sure it’s all clearly marked with your camper’s name. I’ve tried the iron on labels, but either I suck at ironing or the ones I bought were poorly made. They flaked off in the wash and that didn’t piss me off at all.
Now I stick to the “last name with a Sharpie” method and it works as well as anything.
I’ve never marked socks before, but Drew insisted he had a fabulous way to identify his socks, so I armed him with a Sharpie and let him have a go at it.
I bet he comes back with every single sock.
I submitted this as part of Works For Me Wednesday at Rocks In My Dryer. Thanks, Shannon!