Camp

 Yesterday, both of our kids went to camp at the same time.  I've never been home without them before. It's quiet and strange.  Delightful and melancholy. I have been looking forward to my vacation for long time.  I don't have to drive anybody anywhere, teach anybody anything, or correct any behaviors or attitudes.  If I clean something, it stays clean! But I miss them.

 Sarah wanted to be early for registration so she could have her choice of bunks. We were the first ones in line. The kids took a turn on the rope swing while we waited.

 Lice checks.  The qualified professional (who looked to be about the same age as Noah) pronounced them lice-free.

Jacob (whose name tag said "Shadow") led us to Noah's cabin.

 Noah is a turtle for the week.

He was the first one, so he got to choose his bunk.  He chose the bottom one in the corner. It was hot and humid and hard to leave him there with strangers.

 Walking away, I stopped to take one last look.  I miss him already.

 Then we were off to Field Mouse Glen to get our little mouse settled.

She chose the top bunk at the front. She was happy and ready for us to leave. Mike tried to help her with her suitcase and was informed, "I got it. I'm not six years old, Dad."

 The Field Mice are in a more civilized dwelling than the turtles. They even have a bathroom with showers in their building.  The boys have to walk to a bath house far from their cabin.

 Driving away, still too sad about leaving them to enjoy our vacation, I glanced back and saw that Noah had left his tennis shoes in the van.  He had packed in typical Noah style: an overstuffed suitcase accompanied by several little bags in a disorganized heap of stuff he mostly wouldn't need. I told Mike we had to go back, because he couldn't spend the week in the woods with only the flip flops he was wearing.  Secretly, I was happy to get a chance to see him again.

 Mike trudged back through the woods and passed the bag up to a very grateful boy. His cabinmates had arrived by this time, and they were gathered on the porch, listening to the counselor's speech about expected behavior.

Then we drove away for good.  Our first act of vacation was a stop at Monicals, followed by Dairy Queen. I'm trying not to think about them in their hot, muggy cabins, surrounded by strangers and bugs.  For the record, they both CHOSE to go of their own free will.  We didn't coerce or even encourage them.