Who doesnt want to just craw in there bed and eat a nice big bowl of chicken noodle soup and watch movies or read a book when they have a cold? Even when you have to tough it out and go to work during the day you know you have that nice warm bed to come home to. Oh and a hot shower! Oh the simple glories of a hot shower to help you breath.......
oh....thats right...its 90 degrees outside and I managed to get a cold...in the middle of July.
It never fails. Every year since I was... 13 I believe I have worked for a rummer camp doing the office work. At first it was as a volunteer and now its paid(because the kindness has run and low as my bank account) and every week we have like 45-80 kids doing drama, music, art and dance all day getting ready for a show on friday. Wep, every single year....peter pan week is cursed. And this was the week. It was supposed to be a short week. It was a four day week to honor the birthday of America... what with July 4th being monday and all we thought it would be an easy breezy week. WE THOUGHT WRONG. I feel to get my point across for this one, Ill have to revert to my old southern roots.... I have been beat, downtrodden, left for the wolfs and last but not least I feel like and most of the week I have looked like I was rode hard and put up wet. In fact a little girl asked me on tueday, as she was circling me like a shark waiting for her prey to give in and die, "why are you wearing your glasses?" " Well" I told her "Ive been sneezing all morning and didnt feel like dealing with my contacts." " hum" As shes continued to go all the way around me she looking me up and down, mind you shes an eleven year old camper with an attitude that would make a grown man think twice about crossing her she looks me dead in the face and says in a syrupy sweet voice " did you brush your hair today?....actually I can tell that you didnt" This was DAY ONE of camp. Between campers and parents and other employees and then my other job, and house sitting and moving and church.....Im sooo over peter pan week.
