Happy Campers is a Term Made Up by Disgruntled Counselors

Next week is camp for the boys. That means that three boys will be absent from our house, and while most people would be thinking that the home will be quiet and peaceful, we are not most people. No, we'd be the idiots who don't just send their kids to camp, we go with them. Other families are idiotic enough to go be counselors and stay overnight, but we take idiocy to all new levels. *Go, us.* We'd be the ones that choose to drive back and forth every single day because we are day helpers and not overnight counselors. We will also be bringing Micah home with us daily (nightly?) so that would ensure that we don't even get a peaceful night's sleep. We're excelling in idiocy, my friends. We are Excellent Idiots.

What could possibly make this any more irrational? The fact that I volunteered to help with the drama. While I was originally informed that drama would take place during the evening lesson, I've come to find out differently. First of all, let it be noted that by volunteering to "help with the drama" I was actually volunteering to "head up the drama team." I'm not sure how that got so twisted, but there it is. And what was during the evening lesson is now during the evening lesson AND first thing in the morning. Yippee Skippee, I'm the one who has to get up at the plumber's crack of dawn to feed horses, dogs, goats and lizards (okay, so it's just one goat and one lizard, but it might as well be a whole freaking zoo at this point) (Oh wait, it is. Forget I said that.) BEFORE driving a half hour to put on drama for campers. They'd better be happy campers is all I have to say. I have to be there first thing in the morning and last thing at night, with nothing else to do all day in between. Driving a half hour home won't be an option, but it sure will feel like it should be.

But I have this theory that if you have to do something, you do it right. I will be doing the drama unlike any camper has done drama before. Wearing random, mismatched clothing just because I can sounds like a plan. I'm also thinking of making the teen boy who's helping me sculpt his hair to represent the parting of the Red Sea on the day we learn about that. It'll be dyed red, of course. And a day isn't complete without bright, striped knee socks with shorts and flip flops. I only hope the drama doesn't detract from the lesson. That would be a fail. Of course, I may never be asked to help again. I'm not sure if that would be good or bad.

Have I mentioned that Starbucks is on the way to camp every day? It is. And a Lite Mocha Frappuccino is only 2 points. Totally do-able. Now to talk my ever loving husband into stopping daily. I wont' count up how much that would cost because it would scary. Let's call it therapy and know that nobody can live with me without it, okay?

Also? My mother-in-law has taken off work the entire week of camp to be Micah's personal helper. She volunteered for this monumental task all by herself, and asked my permission to do it. My word, she's a saint.

All hail Saint Mother-In-Law.

No, seriously. Do it. She's a gem.