Last Sunday, I drove Winter to Girl Scouts camp up north to Baxter State Park. Firstly, I had no idea the drive would involve an all-day trip. And this information was not well-received — by either of us. The four hours it took to get there gave Winter far too much time to decide this camp thing was nothing she wanted to be part of. You see, my kid is a born condescender and must passionately hate everything before giving in and allowing herself to have fun. Whatever you do, don’t threaten her with a good time!
We spent an hour checking in (she had a fantastic case of swimmer’s itch that was suspect for dismissal) and playing the convince-Winter-she-won’t-hate-camp game. I recalled how last year (at a closer location) she had so much fun she didn’t want to come home. This was all forgotten. There were no smiles, and even worse, no good-bye hug and kiss.
“Can I have a hug good-bye?” I wasn’t going to push it by requesting a kiss.
She leaned with her back toward me, shoving her little shoulder into my neck, smugly claiming this to be a “sideways hug.” Her emotional manipulation was complete and I left wholly defeated. This guilty feeling could only be relieved by the benefits of living the life of the childless. I partook in these freedoms immediately.
This involved being away from home as much as possible. And the first full day of childlessness involved work, unfortunately, and then attending a birthday barbie, or barbecue for those who don’t know using nicknames is a requirement of childlessness — it makes everything sound like loads of fun.
As I was enjoying myself with a rack of ribs and a cold Shipyard, I received the dreaded phone call from camp. “Hello, this is (can’t remember her name) from Camp Natarswi. Is this Amy?” an unfamiliar voice asked.
Oh no! I’m going to have to drive four hours tonight to pick up Winter. My freedom is gone!
“First of all the children are okay,” she began. This is the most unreassuring comment ever made. “We got word that a criminal is loose in the Baxter State Park area and we had to move all the girls to the Millonocket Junior High. They will be staying there until the perp is caught.”
I wasn’t even sure how to react. Should I go get her now? Should I just worry from home? How long will the perp stay in the area? What’s he doing there anyway? And can they trap him with a trail of Thin Mints?
Fortunately, I was buzzed enough to not freak out. And honestly, my kid is so bizarre, she’s probably having more fun in the junior high gym than she would camping in a tent — she’s more of an indoor kid, really.
The next day I received a phone call announcing the kids were moved to Camp Pondicherry in Bridgton to spend the rest of the week. No four-hour drive to Millinocket? Thank you, scary criminal!