From the age of about twelve years old until I was nineteen I spent every summer working at a camp on a lake in Maine. Early on, since I was a kid, I mostly just mowed lawns, collected garbage and cleaned bathrooms. I was not paid by the camp, I was a volunteer. The last few summers, since I had proven myself, I was hired by the camp and put on Permanent Staff. This was a big deal. Now I got to mow lawns, collect garbage, clean bathrooms and get paid for it. It was actually a great job. I worked on the Maintenance Staff. I spent the summers without much or any parental supervision on a lake, in the woods, working with a group of high school and college kids. Many of my closest friends, to this day, came as a result of this camp. I got to use power tools, drive riding lawn mowers, a golf cart, a rack-body truck. My co-worker, we'll call him The Ladies Man, and I both had the same policy on work. It could always get done tomorrow.
Each week a different group of kids and counselors would come to camp. Most groups were filled with great kids and great counselors. Then there was Mom/Child camp. I'm not certain how the camp advertised Mom/Child camp in their brochures but I'd bet if went like this - Are you an over-protective mother? Is your son a momma's boy and your daughter a spoiled brat? Do you spend a great deal of your time wondering why everyone else hates your angelic kids? Then we've got the camp for you! To call this group high maintenance would be an insult to all the women out there that take a mere two hours to get ready for a dinner date.
One particular Mom/Child team was especially offensive to the whole "camping spirit." A woman that asked if there was any way to quiet down the loons at night so she and her son could get some sleep. I am not referring to a group of crazies (they came on another week), I am talking about the bird, the Common Loon. She wanted to know if there was anything we could do to keep them from performing their nightly call and response. Sure! If decades and decades of human encroachment and the commercial development of their natural habitat couldn't shut them up I'm sure a couple of eighteen year old boys can come up with something.
On another occasion this Mom/Child team informed us that the son (allowed outside of his plastic bubble for this one week) was allergic to mosquitoes. And could we make sure there were no mosquitoes in his cabin? The Ladies Man and I took great interest in his allergy. What happened when he gets bitten? Does he get an itchy red welt? Oh, my God! We get that too! We must also be allergic. We assured her that now that we understood the severity of his allergy we would mosquito proof that drafty old cabin. We proceeded to pop holes in all the screens and make sure the rickety door no longer closed flush.
I would not expect Karma to take this long to catch up to me. As I type this I am consistently disturbed by the unquenchable need to scratch the skin clean off of my legs. I spent Saturday at Raft City and apparently I am now actually allergic to mosquitoes. My legs are covered in swollen bumps that won't stop itching. I grew up spending time in the woods. Never in my life have I had a reaction like this. I don't know if it's my weakened immune system, the fact I've spent nine years in a part of the country that has no mosquitoes or the karma of making Bubble Boy and his Crazy Mom pack it in early that week but I am on the verge of taking a belt sander to my legs.
Would somebody please shut those God Damn Loons up!
Each week a different group of kids and counselors would come to camp. Most groups were filled with great kids and great counselors. Then there was Mom/Child camp. I'm not certain how the camp advertised Mom/Child camp in their brochures but I'd bet if went like this - Are you an over-protective mother? Is your son a momma's boy and your daughter a spoiled brat? Do you spend a great deal of your time wondering why everyone else hates your angelic kids? Then we've got the camp for you! To call this group high maintenance would be an insult to all the women out there that take a mere two hours to get ready for a dinner date.
One particular Mom/Child team was especially offensive to the whole "camping spirit." A woman that asked if there was any way to quiet down the loons at night so she and her son could get some sleep. I am not referring to a group of crazies (they came on another week), I am talking about the bird, the Common Loon. She wanted to know if there was anything we could do to keep them from performing their nightly call and response. Sure! If decades and decades of human encroachment and the commercial development of their natural habitat couldn't shut them up I'm sure a couple of eighteen year old boys can come up with something.
On another occasion this Mom/Child team informed us that the son (allowed outside of his plastic bubble for this one week) was allergic to mosquitoes. And could we make sure there were no mosquitoes in his cabin? The Ladies Man and I took great interest in his allergy. What happened when he gets bitten? Does he get an itchy red welt? Oh, my God! We get that too! We must also be allergic. We assured her that now that we understood the severity of his allergy we would mosquito proof that drafty old cabin. We proceeded to pop holes in all the screens and make sure the rickety door no longer closed flush.
I would not expect Karma to take this long to catch up to me. As I type this I am consistently disturbed by the unquenchable need to scratch the skin clean off of my legs. I spent Saturday at Raft City and apparently I am now actually allergic to mosquitoes. My legs are covered in swollen bumps that won't stop itching. I grew up spending time in the woods. Never in my life have I had a reaction like this. I don't know if it's my weakened immune system, the fact I've spent nine years in a part of the country that has no mosquitoes or the karma of making Bubble Boy and his Crazy Mom pack it in early that week but I am on the verge of taking a belt sander to my legs.
Would somebody please shut those God Damn Loons up!
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