Starting Early

So. Today was an interesting day. Back to the normal amount of campers in the tribe - we had 12 today instead of 5. With that, of course, comes the awesome campers and the whiney campers. Let's take a look at the cast of characters for the day:

Lady Whine-a-lot
I'd really like to understand why someday, but for whatever reason, Miss Whine-a-lot proceeds to stop and burst into tears whenever something just does not go her way. On previous Tuesdays, Miss Whine-a-lot has bawled because I told her to tie her shoe (and she didn't want to. I mean, really - how dare I ask her to tie her shoe!?!?!) . . . Today, Miss W comes up to me, tears streaming down her face, clutching her arm as though it will fall off if she were to let go of it. Ducking down to find out what's wrong, I was informed that a counselor hit her in the arm with a ball. ***Quick background info here - we were at games. Playing dodgeball. With gaterskin balls. Which don't hurt even when you get hit in the head. And I saw her get hit. It really was more of a toss than a throw . . . Thought you ought to know . . .*** Anyway, I informed her that, since she was, indeed, hit with a ball, she was out and needed to go over to the line of campers waiting to go back into the game. "Buuuuttt iiiiiiiiiittttt huuuuuuurrrrrrrrrttttsss!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" "Alright. Go get a drink. Then go back to the line." "But I don't waaaannnnnnaaaaaaaaaa" And then more or less told her to get the drink, suck it up, and wait her turn to go back into the game. Really, I'm sure that makes me sound like Monster Counselor of the Year, but you really should meet this girl sometime. She and her twin brother (not in my tribe, thankfully - I don't know how I could handle both of them . . .) are a real treat to be around . . .

Peeping Tom
So not really a Peeping Tom, but eh. So one of my boys comes up to me on our way across the bridge back from Swim Time. "Kelly." "Yes?" "I saw two people doing a bad thing today." "When?" "A few mintues ago." "At the pool?" "Yup." "Campers?" "Yup." "Well, what were they doing?" "Going at it tounge-to-tounge." **At this point, I stopped walking and turned to stare at him in silence. He kept walking. I rushed to catch back up with him** "So you saw two campers kissing?" "Yup." " . . .Okay, was it a boy and a girl?" "Nope." "Oh. Two girls then, or two boys?" "Two boys. . . . I didn't really think they should be doing that, but they didn't listen to me when I told them to stop." "Okay, thank you. You're right - no campers should be kissing at camp . . ." **In my head - Or at all, since they're going to be in second grade in the fall . . .**

Name Games
One of my campers, bless his little heart, can't remember my name for the life of him. Every time he tries it's a different name, but never the right one . . . I think today I heard Katie, Kaitlin, Kathy, Kate, Kathleen, Kiley, and Kendra. But no Kelly's. Maybe next session . . .

Starting Early
The high point of my day. This camper has been here all four weeks, and hadn't given me trouble of any sort, until today. For pow-wow today, Aaron and I joined our Cherokee with Walter and Stevie's Algonquin for the Dice Game (a wonderful game which can be a source of amusement for weeks . . . ask my Wednesday fianceé, Patrick . . . ) The game was fun, the kids did crazy things and made fools of themselves, we all got some good laughs, Jim and Kyle Lawton were proposed to, Kim and Jim were serenaded, Walter spelled his name with his posterior, and I walked the runway for my very own SF daycamp fashion show.
After the game, we were herding our tribes to the main shelter for Leagues instructions, when I felt a little pinch! on my hindside. I turn around, and there's one of my campers grinning up at me, the little punk. I glared at him, told him to keep his hands to himself, and kept going. We were almost to the shelter when he mumbles something to me. So, I bend over to hear him better, and little Rico Suave reaches up and grabs a handful of my chest. Aghast, I stood up and told him that if he couldn't keep his hands to himself, he'd have to talk with Scottie and Ed about why he couldn't.
Finally got the whole tribe a-stitting at the table when I realized my shoes were untied. I put my foot up on the bench and leaned over to re-tie my shoes. Mr. Trouble definitely decided he wanted another handful. I pulled the Troublesome Sir over to the side and had a good talking-to with him about how he was not allowed to touch anyone's hind-sides or chests. Pouting, he went off to go play the game.
**Walter and Jim didn't seem troubled in the slightest by the fact that a boy who will be in 2nd grade this fall pinched my butt and groped me twice today. Thanks for the support guys. Oh wait, I did get support, didn't I?? Support from the camper, that is. Erg . . . **
Guess they're just starting early these days . . .