Although I have grown to appreciate the positive bonding benefits of camping - family camping, family reunion camping, and youth camps - I can even give sincere testimonials of the camping experience, dread is still my initial reaction. Why? Being a 4th generation neat freak (my great grandmother swept the dirt road in front of her house) - not my comfort zone!
Once I get there (now), I'm fine. However, returning with a truckload of filthy camping equipment, sleeping bags, and people - never fun. Multiply that by six or more truckloads - and you have Girl's camp. Being the mother of 4 daughters, 'camp director' had become a permanent summer assignment. To save me from year #9, my sister devised a "rescue Cathy" scheme. We bought airline tickets for Marah's "graduation" trip as soon as we knew the dates for camp. I know, I'm a devious sinner... The "nontranferrable" flights were indeed the only thing that saved me.
Did I feel guilt as we dropped Bethany and her camping gear at the camp meeting spot and headed to the airport? Nope - not even when my dear friend Renee, who hates camping more than I, was there in her hiking boots (a first). She even told me that I 'hoovered' - our substitute word for that vacuum word we are attempting to remove from our beautiful daughter's vocabulary.
I'm already wondering where I can be next year during camp... Although, after this summer of appliance deaths and downstairs flood, I think I'll be walking to my next escape. Any chance the plagues of floodings and broken appliances were punishment for running away from camp??? We'll see next summer!
1 comments:
I thought you were safe from being called as Girls' Camp director...at least until they call a new bishop...
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