The kids survived summer camp, which is kind of a relief. I want them to learn to enjoy the wilderness (so that I don’t have to. The maid at the Marriott didn’t clean the room until late afternoon, and she left the mints on the desk. I roughed it). But last year, the wilderness fought back, when #1 son came home with Lyme disease.
I am trying to balance the fear of life threatening illness with the fear of fear. So I sent them again, but with enough bug spray to send the ticks packing off to other camps to bite someone else. There was even a 100% Deet spray, which, as long as it doesn’t cause a neurological illness while preventing a neurological illness, seemed like a really good idea.
#1 son went white water rafting. He pointed out to me that even though he lettered on the swim team, he could still drown in a rapids.
I Ignored him. There are no ticks in the river.
This year, #2 son camp home with a camp injury. The back of his left hand is purple with bruises. How did this happen?
Rock, paper, scissors.
Mom: Explain please.
#2 son: The winner got to hit the loser. (Apparently RPS is now a contact sport)
Mom: This is a game of chance. Exactly how bad could you be at it?
#2 son: We tied. But I didn’t hit as hard as he did.
This will teach us to send him to church camp.