Me: Hey Josh, guess what? I signed you up for sleepover camp!
He seemed really excited about.
If by excited you really mean sad, angry, and shocked.
But here’s the thing.
I’m the MOM.
all of the goshdarn time MOM gets to make the rules and decisions. Imagine! I mean, sure, I’m a battle picker by nature. I mean, have you ever been at my house at 11pm—there are usually three children still awake. In their rooms, mind you, but awake nonetheless. But, they get up on their own for school and get dress on their own for school and walk out the door at 8:40am on their own each morning. Battle picking at its finest, I’d say. But while my children do get a say in some things—We’d rather have spaghetti and meatballs, Mama—Can we play Clue instead of Settlers of Catan?—FINE WE CAN HAVE MENCHIE’S—sometimes they just do not.
They take swimming lessons. I don’t care if they don’t want to.
They brush and floss their teeth. I don’t care if they don’t want to.
They go to school every day. I don’t care if they don’t want to.
My son is going to sleepover camp. I don’t care if he doesn’t want to.
Because I know. I know my son, and I know how much he’s going to love the heck out of it.
I went to sleepover camp for 11 years and have absolutely nothing but amazing memories about it—it’s such a big part of who I am.
(In fact, I even snagged myself a husband at camp.)
I don’t remember the crappy food or the possible homesickness on the first night or the frizzy hair or the freezing showers or the bug bites or the sand in my bed (actually that I kind of do remember…).
What I remember is the fun, the friends, the freedom. I remember the late nights and the cabin raids and the nukem volleyball (seriously, what the heck was that?) and the rollerskating trips and the overnights and the color war breakouts and the singing and the saturday morning cookies and making mix tapes and the blue and white Friday nights and the inside jokes that my parents just didn’t understand.
Sometimes you just know your kid. I knew he’d love baseball, I knew he’d love his new school, I knew he’d love this new hoodie I just bought him.
And I know he’s going to love camp.
So he doesn’t get a say.
Not this time.
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Check out me, on the internet, in a bathing suit. Eeep!