This year was the rainiest week of camp in history. The laundry was on a whole new level of disgusting. Take the general camp grime and add to that mildew and mud. It was a joy to clean.
But there is no place my kids would rather be than at Inside Out Camp. It's where the jocks and the readers and the gamers and the bros and the nerds come together and play like it's 1950. They use things like sticks and rocks and their imaginations to entertain themselves for hours at a time.
They also eat every other hour. We are like a cruise ship - keep them full and nobody gets hurt.
Mia was an official "Junior Counselor" this year so basically she was too cool to acknowledge my existence. The only time I ever saw her was in the cafeteria where she served up wonderful concoctions consisting mainly of carbs and sugar.
Four-square was Bode's game of choice this year. He prefers to be involved in activities where he can be the best and dominate all other participants.
Mia decided to wear a bright yellow trucker hat every single day of camp. Since coming home she has continued wearing it and has refused to wash it. She insists that every dirt stain represents a memory from camp. I insist she keep those memories in her brain instead of on her stupid hat.
Cousins. Opposite in almost every way, yet they love each other like brothers.
Once again, I present to you the hat (and the carbs and the sugar):
For the first time in my life, I managed to not wash my hair for an entire week. Camp will change you in ways you never would have expected. Sometimes Jesus becomes more real to you than ever before. And sometimes you realize you can get by with not grooming yourself for an entire week. Either way, you are never the same.