I’ve practically ignored this blog all summer, and it only seems fitting that right now I would sit down and write up a nice concise and entertaining little summary of the past few months for you. But… my mind never does seem to work the way I want it to after something momentuous. I might get sappy. Or just ludicrous.
I do know of three words that describe my summer pretty well: Overworked and Underpaid.
Seriously though…. For me personally, this has been the best summer out of our 9 years here at Bethel Camp. I really, really enjoyed my hours (and hours and hours and hours) in the kitchen. I enjoyed the people at camp more than I’ve ever been able to before. I think what I love most about working in the kitchen is that you’re right there in the center of things. Not technically the center, because the campers are never there. But staff members are always walking through, and I get so many chances to talk with them and laugh with them and find out their favorite things.
For some reason this post, which was supposed to get right to the point of telling you 2 kid-stories, has meandered off the path and blathered on about myself and my concepts of summer-ness and….. I must be my own favorite topic.
Wesley has had some sort of stomach bug this week. He threw up Sunday morning at church. It was in the middle of the service, while Roger and I were up front reading scripture. I didn’t even notice! I thought I heard someone coughing in the bathroom, but I never dreamed it was my own flesh and blood, retching out his misery. I got to play the martyred part of the sweet nurturing mother who says, “Let me take you home, baby.”
All Roger did was clean up the mess all over the bathroom door and floor.
That man’s a keeper.
By Monday morning, Wesley was feeling good enough to go to school, where they had his favorite food for lunch: mashed potatoes. He found out after eating them that his stomach wasn’t ready for solid food yet. His little friend Brianna found out too – as she happened to be sitting right in the line of fire. Wesley was sent to the kindergarten room to lay down and wait for Roger to come get him. Brianna joined him so she could get cleaned up.
What would you say if a little boy in your class threw up on your back? Brianna was very calm about it. She said sweetly, “I don’t mind. That happens to me all the time.”
Kid story #2………
On vacation with my family 2 weeks ago, we went to Linville Caverns. I’ve gone on cave tours with friends and with my family when I was younger. But I don’t think I’ve ever experienced it in a family group with 9 children under 10. It gives you a different perspective.
Before we bought our tickets, someone went in the gift shop and came back out to tell the rest of us the cave rules. No backpacks… no flashlights…. etc. My brother Joel was like, “Just because I have a flashlight doesn’t mean I’m going to turn it on.” (He has a little one he carries all the time, and he didn’t see the need to change that just to follow someone else’s rule.)
We were all grouped at the cave entrance, meeting our tour guide, and waiting to go inside. My nephew Wilson, saw the tour guide’s flashlight, and in a quiet moment, made the big, loud announcement: “My daddy has a flashlight with him!”
What can a tour guide say to such a friendly rulebreaker? Something like….. “That’s a good thing.”
Then we got inside the cave, where the first thing you see is some fish swimming in the water beside the walking path. Wesley asked the tour guide, “Did you buy those fish or were they already here?”
Farther in, the guide (Jeremiah) told us a story about 2 college kids who had gotten lost in the cave years ago, and finally made it out alive after two long days in the dark. Wilson thought over that one a while and then told Jeremiah, “I bet they were spies!”
Sometimes it’s nice to be presented with a different point of view. (The tour guide surmised with Wilson that they were probably Russian. I bet he never had that conversation before.)