Last Sunday was Visiting Day at my children’s camp in the Berkshires. Prior to arrival, my wife thought it prudent to suggest that we (meaning me) try to keep the focus on fun and affection and, more to the point, avoid any familial blow-ups. Well, I’m pleased to report that it was a lovely day. Hugs, chats, food, electronics, even comic relief. Though I suspect that the comedy will come round as a source of tension when we recombine in the mid-August.
How shall I put this? It’s seems that my wife and I have been critically remiss in not insisting that our children make their beds and clean their rooms on a regular basis. At home, it gets done on a need-to-yell-at-them basis. But at camp, there’s no one to yell at them. So my daughter, at 15, maintains her stuff at a level of socially acceptable, while my son, at 11, is not only a big slob, he’s a big and proud slob. He cultivates it as a personal trademark.
Adam, why are your legs filthy?
It’s hard to wash down there. (Sheepish Grin #1)
Elena shared this out of his earshot: He wasn’t wearing socks anywhere. I convinced him to wear socks. But she was too late.
Adam: I need you to buy me another pair of sneakers today.
Me: Why?
One pair is okay, but one pair stinks. (Grin #2)
Glancing at his bed, my wife and I decided to cast our dignity and hygiene aside to give it a quick once over, putting pillows back in their pillow cases; re-connecting his fan to his outlet; tucking in his sheets; putting all the dirty clothes in his laundry bag, which was way over-stuffed considering you’re supposed to hand in your dirty laundry once a week.
Adam, do you ever hand in your laundry?
(Grin #3)
We like his counselors, and considered mentioning all this to them, but, as they are young men in high school and college, they are probably his slobby role models.
But could any of them top this?
At our camp, Visiting Day is largely spent away from camp itself—meet the kids at 11am, find things to do in the Berkshires, return them at the end of day. As we were walking to our car to take them out of the camp, at the basketball courts we noticed a lone sitting chair that looked a lot like the new bungee chair (see photo) we bought for Adam for camp. Most kids keep their chairs on their bunk porch. Hmmm.
Adam, isn’t that your chair? (Grin #4)
“Oh, yeah, that’s where it is!”
Hey, and isn’t that your jacket hanging over the fence?
(Grin #5)
All of this put a curious letter we had received prior to Visiting Day in perspective.
Adam: “It’s sad, but I need a new water bottle.”
We had sent him up with three.
Eric Messinger is the editor of New York Family. He can be reached at emessinger@manhattanmedia.com
