Super Son went to camp again this summer.
We missed him, but I think Miss Thing had it the worst.
After we dropped him off she wrote him a letter.
She fell asleep mid thought.
While he was gone Super Son had a very big kid experience
and it wasn't in archery.
He ate it on his mountain bike.
So badly that the camp nurse called to let me know and advise me that
they thought he should go to the clinic in the next town over to have
them scrubbed out and one maybe stitched.
I was so excited to get to talk to him on the phone he had to
stop me to let me know that he DID NOT want to go to the clinic.
I am pretty certain that this had something to do with missing
out on some kind of kid-tastic activity, but he was adamant.
I suggested that he shower and try to clean them up
himself and while not surgically clean they passed muster
and he didn't have to go to the doctor.
I have since decided that Super Son is the kind of kid that you
want on your side under pressure.
He may freak out over the occasional paper cut,
but fall and break both the bones in your arm,
he will deep breathe and pant well enough
to make any lamaze coach proud.
Skid 60 yards (his estimate not mine) on your hands
and knees after a mountain bike fall...
this kid doesn't cry, he walks his bike and gets a ride back to camp.
and then dances the night away,
hangs out with his cabin-mates
and apparently forgets to change his shirt. For two weeks.