Home.

The Who turned down an opportunity to go grocery shopping with me today — something he hasn’t done in…ever? He’s always been a kid who relishes a whole day at home, but when push comes to shove, he has never turned down a short outing, especially when it includes cookies from the Trader Joe’s sampling station. I think it’s fair to say that camp is kicking his ass.

Just like last summer, I wake him up as gently as I can. Usually, I quietly open his curtains, turn off the nightlight, and climb up next to him in his bed. By then, he’s opening his eyes and yawning into the daylight-filled room. He hasn’t yet complained about having to get up so early, which, frankly, is a testament to the camp. Waking at 5:30, getting slathered in sunscreen, leaving at 7, driving an hour, and then, after a full day, driving another hour home with just enough time for dinner, a bath, and a few stories before going to bed again. It’s grueling. I mean, it’s grueling for me; it has to be for him. (Not to mention the heat, the humidity, the blazing sun, and the onslaught of gnats like we’ve never before seen. Seems a high price to pay. Still, when we got into the car on Friday morning, he said sleepily and sort of dreamily, “I love camp.” So there you go.)

Happy Campers -- literally.

Happy Campers — literally.

Coloring on my paper-covered desk, waring the Wizard hat he made in Art, His ears are working harder than he is here, I think.

Coloring on my paper-covered desk, wearing the Wizard hat he made in Art. His ears are working harder than he is here, I think.

He didn’t get out of his pajamas today. He played lots of Legos, watched lots of TV, drew lots of pictures, sang LOTS of songs (seriously, this kid doesn’t ever stop singing and humming) and invented lots of stories. It was the perfect Saturday for him. Tomorrow he gets to play tour guide for our visiting cousin and then it’s back to the grind. At least we’re looking at some better weather this week.

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