Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Camp Keep Your Head Above Water.

My bank account just made a huge sucking sound as I committed the little bastard to another week of high-intensity summer camp.

Whatever happened to my life's plan? The plan that had me spending summers at leisure, up at my rustic-yet-charming Georgian Bay cottage – where I would play tennis and plow through novels, sipping gin and tonic, all the while praying some child didn't load up on Jim Beam and Dr. Pepper and subsequently smash the family boat – which would mean an unscheduled trip to town for stitches, more gin, and a new outboard motor. Meanwhile, my ever-so-successful husband would be in the city, screwing his secretary and making a small fortune, so I wouldn't have to work, think, or worry about anything fiscal.

What happened to that plan?

Instead, here I am, working my ass off just to keep up with all the activities necessary to keep the little bastard off of my sofa, crack cocaine and and the X-Box, until school starts in 65 days.

I don't recall my parents forking out the $500 or so, per week, to put me in golf camp, tennis camp, hockey camp, baseball camp or anything that ends in "camp" unless you count my self-enrollment in "Let's Roll a Doobie and Go Windsurfing Camp", or those two weeks I spent in "Teenage Alcoholic Training Camp" where the counselors taught you how to shotgun a beer, French kiss, and make Trashcan Punch while high on windowpane acid.

I have no memories of that camp, whatsoever.

God forbid you suggest the little bastard should get a fucking job. Bagging groceries, washing dishes or mowing lawns would interfere with golf camp, goalie camp, tennis camp, hockey camp, dryland training, wetland training and the $175 bucks I paid so he can run six kilometres down a gravel road once a week.

So off we go to Fredericton today, where I will fork out another mortgage payment so my little bundle of testosterone can spend six days being stimulated by something other than marijuana, fortified wine and texting on the sofa.

Ah, summer.

While he's away I think I'll enroll in Camp Menopause. I hear activities include lip waxing, bloat control-low-sodium BBQ-ing, mixing the perfect Cinzano and soda by flashlight, Introductory low-intensity shuffleboard, swimming with Depends, and coping with night sweats in a sleeping bag.

Sounds like a hoot.


Dalhousie University offers great, affordable summer camps for kids, like Shakespeare by the Sea Theatre Camp, soccer camp, hockey camps etc. www.athletics.dal.ca