Hello Mudduh, Hello Fadduh

It's camp time! I took two of the little darlings and dropped them off yesterday. It feels a little like losing a limb to have them gone, but I've heard you can get used to that. Luckily their two camps are close enough that I could drop them both off. Since the family would be parted this week (and there did seem to be alot of glee about that from all parties) we spent Saturday together. The children's favorite restaurant (Ponderosa, yes you read that right, Ponderosa, because quantity of free ice cream is a make or break deal for them) is closing. We all ate far too much buffet and then went to the beach. Ok, the beach is really the reservoir, but this is a landlocked state, ok? I did my minimalist thing. Swim suits, check, sunscreen check! We're ready. I did take a token towel to leave in the van. If it's hot enough to swim, you can air dry in my opinion. Of course Mel decided that day to be scrupulous in her toilet habits and demand to be taken 1/4 mile up a hill to go potty, three times no less! E did manage to keep all the others from drowing while I was gone UP THE HUGE FREAKIN' HILL. Happy, toasty children resulted from the enterprise however, so it was worth it, I guess. I just wish they didn't have those pesky signs about no alcohol. Really, a cool vodka tonic would improve the beach immensely. The only monkey wrench in the day was when S announced that he was packed for camp. A quick perusal of his bags before loading revealed he had packed no socks. Me: "Where are your socks?" S: "I don't have any" Me: "Saturday night at 7:00pm is just a great time to tell me that!"
S: "Well, I'll just wear my shoes without socks. Einstein never wore socks you know." No, I didn't know that, you smarty, smarty pants. Einstein's mother would have objected too if she had just bought new Nike's in men's size 10, 10 for criminy's sake. And not on sale either! Thank you oh shoe gods for letting Dollar General be open until 8 and having socks! Oh, and I forgot to mention the heart rending end Sunday to dropping off L at camp. She's 7. You'd think she might be a little apprehensive, might like a hug right? Oh no, we loaded her bags onto the camp wagon, she looks at me and says "You can go now mother." "How about a hug and a kiss" says I. She rolled her eyes and ran off to find her counselor. Eeeek!