Lest you think I'm a total cheapskate, we did enroll Zoey in a week-long summer camp.
Ok. It was actually Ella who pushed for this. But at least I didn't go into it kicking and screaming and threatening to set the checkbook on fire.
The camp was at a kids' gymnasium and it was a disorganized mess. Basically, the kids just ran around a lot, tumbled, and used the equipment while the soundtrack from High School Musical played in the background. Every once in awhile, they would stop to have a snack or do a really lame and poorly planned "craft."
On the first day of camp, the counselors decided to take the kids to the library across the street. Since the two counselors had nineteen kids from the ages of four to eight, they asked me if I wanted to tag along (i.e. help). The three of us managed to herd the children across the four-lane road without any casualties. I considered this a major success.
Once we were inside, one of the counselors went to look for some books while I went into the reading room with the other counselor and the kids. After what seemed like an eternity, the other counselor came back in and said, "I don't know what kind of books kids like to read."
Nice.
So I went to pick out some books while the other counselor tried to find some books. I went back into the room and handed them to the counselor. A little girl came up to the counselor and said, "Mr. Jim, I have to go to the bathroom." The counselor looked at me and said, "Do you want to take her?"
Um? Hell no!
Visions of lawsuits danced in my head as I tried to figure a way out of the mess (note to self: you really need to find something to do while your kids are at school so you don't find yourself in situations like these).
"How about I read to the kids while you take her to the bathroom?" I proposed. He agreed.
Seriously, though. If you were a parent and paid good money to send your kid to summer camp, would you want some guy you didn't even know (and one that the counselors didn't know, either) to take your daughter to the bathroom? Me neither.
So I read a few books to the class. We then headed back across the four-lane road (once again, no casualties) to the gym. Needless to say, I stayed at the camp for the rest of the week just to make sure they weren't enlisting homeless people to help teach the class.
On Friday, I received a call from the gymnasium wanting to know if we were interested in signing up for another week. Only I wasn't sure if they wanted Zoey or me.
Song of the day: Waiting Room by Fugazi
I Can Now Add Camp Counselor To My Curriculum Vitae
