The Universe Hates Me

Tomorrow, all our kids head off to camp. Mind you, being summer, we've had quite a few weeks of camp already. Micah was at Camp Parc, that awesome place just for kids with mental delays. Josh was at Jr. High camp through the church, and Becky was at Sr. High camp. Josh just got back from Trapping Camp today. (Yes, it's where kids learn the fine art of trapping. Animals. Yes, I encourage my kids to do such things, because spending time out in the woods is far better than spending time hanging around the streets of town. But that's my opinion.) (And if you're like Becky, who is horrified at the idea of trapping animals, there's no need to worry. Last year's camp money was basically to get Josh out of the house for a few days. The boy caught nothing more than a cold last winter.)

But tomorrow, all the kids are heading to Kids Camp through the church. The little boys are campers, and the teens are counselors. That's 4 out of the 6 of us gone, and the two remaining are us adults. Sa-weet. Except not. I have one lone responsibility at camp, and it's one I enjoy a lot. I am in charge of the skit in the morning opening ceremony each day.

Are you seeing the flaw in my week? It's kinda obvious and glaring. Let me restate that.

I have no kids this week. I only have one job at camp, which leaves 90% of my day free and open. My one job requires me to be at camp at 9:00 AM.

The universe is determined that I do not need to sleep in. Ever. I think the universe is flirting with the cruel and unusual punishment thing. I'd just like to know what I've done to tick off the universe. After 15 years of parenthood, you'd think I'd get a day every now and then to wake under my own powers, right?

Wrong. But I'll be having fun, so there's that.