Dear Readers –
I’m pretty sure I’m a loser… I spent the morning picking up kids on the Westchester bus and watched as their parents waved until their hands nearly fell off. I tried to put them on a waving schedule, giving each bleary eyed parent a five-minute window to represent the other parents, as the departure was slowed by extra luggage and late arrivals, but they insisted on doing their own waving to show their level of commitment… A gesture lost on their kids, who were too busy reminiscing and meeting new people to look out the windows. As a longtime “waver” myself, I will suggest that next year they have a chiropractor on site or a ‘hand for hire’ to wave with one hand and hold a sign reading, “I’m waving to you Kayla because your mom loves you, but you’re taking too long to go and last year she acquired carpal tunnel.”
When we arrived at summer camp, the counselors, staff, those that flew in with me yesterday, and the previous bus occupants cheered us in and held signs and sang songs and generally tackled one another with the kind of joy that’s reserved for camp friends. They were all huggy and cheery. I tried to be cheery and huggy, but the kids found it creepy, so I decided to slink off and meet my cabin of moms.
They were not so huggy and I’m pretty sure the arrival of my 150lb duffel which proceeded me, didn’t help me fit in with the crew. “Your bag is in the office… It’s so huge, and so full, what did you pack?” One of my new bunkmates inquired. “And is that another suitcase you have? And two carry ons?” asked another.
“What? Nooooo. I just found this stuff on the bus and that duffel is totally for a friend. I only have this backpack. Yep, I only travel with what I can carry on my back — that’s how I roll.”
“Well, you may want to put on your sneakers.” One helpful new bunkie suggested.
“These are my sneakers,” I said, looking down at the new kicks that Zappos delivered just 48 hours before.
“No, your camp sneakers… those are gonna get really dirty.”
“These are the only sneakers I have … ” (I almost explained that, I pretty much only wear wedges in the summertime and I don’t wear anything flat because being taller than others makes me feel superior, but I kept it to myself because I’m super intuitive.)
I was told I’d be in the “Mom Sorority House,” which is great, except the last time these moms had a pledge was 4yrs ago and they seemed quite happy to leave it that way. I explained that they weren’t the only “Mom House” in the area that I was rushing. I thought that would make me seem like a hot commodity. They weren’t amused. I’m pretty sure one of them did the signal for “blackball this chick” it looked something like the swatting of a fly, but I saw nothing buzzing around.
While searching for the bug being swatted at, a lone child came running up the camp road. Of course it was J, and he was yelling that I’d forgotten to pack him underwear.
Not now, I thought, I’m totally killing it. I just led with my ‘sorority rush joke’ and I was just about to show the moms the awesome chore wheel I made to cinch the deal.
“I packed you 20 pairs!”
“No, you didn’t we looked everywhere, you forgot them.”
“Trust me, the only thing I forgot was to order Mabels Labels… I hand wrote your name in every pair of underwear… and on each sock… and in your cup… and on your soap.”
The moms looked at each other. I’m sure as if to say, “Rookie, his underwear probably got sucked into the abyss that is her duffel.” Then they began judging me and debated telepathically whether I would be ‘that mom’ and go a runnin’ or be cool enough to tell J I wouldn’t get involved.
So I said, “I guess you’ll be going commando this summer” with the suaveness of Danny Zuko — Mom’s my name, don’t wear it out… Then I high-fived my new bffl’s and was all, “I mean, am I right, ladies? Can I get an Amen? Who’s in the sorority now?”
Actually, I scurried off to J’s bunk to do that ‘mom saves the day’ maneuver where I find the illusive item that is surely never going to turn up. Whatever, I’m pretty sure they would’ve judged me either way and they don’t seem like the types to give me an Amen, plus going commando can cause chaffing. PS – though J and his counselors insisted the underwear had been forgotten, said items were found within 2 minutes of my arrival on the scene.
I came back to brag to the moms, but no one was all that impressed.
Then I went to lunch and sat inside with the admin and campers and not outside with the moms (I wasn’t ready for that) … and later at dinner, I did the same. I didn’t talk much, though currently, my besties are a 20 something counselor named Alex and a 20 something guy who gets my jokes and may one day rule the world.
Also, J came over to ask if I wanted a bite of his brownie… and came back to see if I could get him water… and maybe came back once or twice more. He is pretty cute and the cord apparently has about 15 feet of slack — not an inch more, but at least he finds me amusing.
I hope the new campers are finding it easier to make friends than I am. Ry, my 9yo daughter, definitely is… she was the child I was most worried about — this being her first year and all — she didn’t stop by the table, but she did give me a finger-gun and a wink… I think she’ll be just fine.
PS – I thought you’d like this…
Jenny From the
Blog Bunk at Camp Lenox
To follow the adventure make sure you’re a fan on the Facebook page and if you’re on twitter, Pinterest or Instagram (I’ll surely have some interesting photos to post). And please take a sec to share this with any friends who’ve been to camp, have kids in camp, or people who like need something to amuse them this summer…