Like, HI!!!

Yesterday was z's first day at day camp. I remember his envy (and mine) last summer as his older neighbor and one true love, the gorgeous Rebecca, skipped off to day camp each day with her insulated lunch pack in tow. z would look out the window, eyes brimming and not responding to my promises of "Next year, you too, will go to camp."

I now realize how foolishly I have anticipated these dubious days. After a year of preschool angst with teachers possessing varying degrees of education and common sense who tested, analyzed and otherwise dissected our child and our abilities as parents, we have signed up for more!

Truly, I have big hopes for z's enjoyment of this time in his life. I dream of directors and counselors who allow children to explore, play and learn through being a kid. After all, summer is the time for fun, right? Not the time to assess gross/fine/disgusting motor skills, ability to keep one's hands to one's self, and kindergarten readiness, right? We'll see. I have to admit, though, the first day was certainly lots of fun and learning for one and all.

The week prior to camp I received a detailed map showing me, with yellow highlights and many arrows, how to DROP OFF and PICK UP (makes me think of my old fave movie, "Mr. Mom"...SOUTH to pick up; NORTH to drop off! or some such thing). In any case, the map and accompanying twelve pages of admonishments and preventive measures were an obvious and entertaining effort to head off those inevitable renegade parents who scoff at rules. This missive made crystal clear the staff's expectations of parents who might dare to think they qualify as equipped guardians of little people.


I am in BIG TROUBLE, MISSY, if I do any (but not limited to) the following:

a) Get out of my car.
b) Fail to show my driver's license to the staff member. (Hey, don't get me wrong, I am all for safety.)
c) Ask staff members questions during drop off/pick up. Guess I'll have to find the little girl's room all by myself.
d) Assist a staff member in opening a car door, or help him or her in the complicated-you-have-to-be-a-rocket-scientist-with-the-patience-of-a-saint task of unbuckling/buckling my child out of/into his booster seat.
e) God forbid, take more than two minutes during the process.


HERE IS HOW IT ACTUALLY WAS:

Camp was supposed to start at 10:00. We got ourselves into a line that stretched onto the main highway at 9:50 am, causing untold office workers to contemplate suicide and/or office wide massacres. (Damn those SUV's!)

10:00 am: Z goes the wrong way, driving UP the DOWN. Z accuses Sara of "hogging" the directions. Sara grits teeth. z laughs, and informs everyone that he needs to poop.

10:05 am: Z is vindicated, as going the wrong way finally leads you to the right way. We pull into line with 500 SUV's and no help in sight.

10:10 am: We see moms and dads running amok, actually GETTING OUT OF THEIR CARS AND WALKING KIDS TO THE STAFF. While their SUV's block everyone else in line. Z and I look at each other and silently curse. We are way too timid to follow suit, of course. This is our first year, you know, and WE can follow directions.

10:20 am: We are finally up to what seems to be the right place, as there are kids running around and middle aged men, women and teens trying to keep them in place. We sit at the front of the line and wait to be noticed. After ten minutes, Z rolls down the window and says to a kid who is presumably in charge, since he is a little taller than the rest of the kids: Hey!

Kid with Blond Spikes who I think might be Sixteen: Dude!

Z: We are here for camp, anyone here for that?

KBSS: Whooahhh, you bet, I'll, like have to get one of your directors. Cool?

Z: (Being Z) Cool!

Next up:

Girl: HIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!. I AM LIKE TIFFFANNNEEEE! WOW! ARE YOU LIKE ZANE?????

z: ummm, yes.



Oh and when we went for PICK UP, we were told to kindly pull forward and buckle our child into his seat once we were clear of all traffic. Like the kind that might rear end us and send our unbuckled child into the front seat. All with the raised eyebrow that clearly says, duh, do we really expect them to do EVERYTHING?!

The most important thing, as you all know, is that z had fun at day camp. Highlights included the girl who pulled down her pants and the boy who had an endless repertoire of potty jokes. So my dream for day camp is not that far away, is it? Next time; however, I am asking for the staff's driver's licenses.