Camp Granada

As always, the cast of characters

Me (The Daddy)
The Bean: Age 9
The Butterfly: Age 7
The Darling Wife

Girl Scout Camp!

The Bean and The Butterfly are excited to be going to Day Camp at Camp S'mores.  Swimming, crafts, canoeing, and bonding.  What's not to love?


I pick them up promptly at 3:30.  Well, sort of promptly.  Even still, they're not the last children to be claimed.  This is good.


And the girls pile into my car.  All excited and giddy to tell me what they did and who they saw.  Right?


Well, The Bean burst into tears.  She won't tell me why, but The Butterfly points to a red wristband around The Bean's tiny wrist.  "That means she can't swim," The Butterfly explains.


This is curious because The Bean loves to swim.  She'd swim everyday if given the chance.


"Why do they think you can't swim?" I ask.


"She wouldn't take the swim test," The Butterfly chirps.  "That's why they think she can't swim."


The Bean glares.


"Maybe it will get better tomorrow," I offer.


"There isn't going to be a tomorrow."


The DW has already paid for this week and next.  This wouldn't be good.


Fast Forward, The DW is home and she is angry.  The Butterfly has joined the chorus of "Never Going Back Again".


The Butterfly rants and drops the 'S' bomb.  "The crafts are stupid.  They are for babies.  They're not challenging enough for me."  She runs crying from our kitchen.


The Next Day, The Bean and The Butterfly are dragged kicking and screaming into our Mini-Van.


When I go to pick them up, they are nowhere to be seen.


"We can't get them out of the pool."

Kooky Monster

Me (The Daddy)
The Bean: Age 9
The Butterfly: Age 7
The Darling Wife

On those rare occasions where I have an actual job-job, it tends to be something out of town.  This is particularly hard on The Bean and The Butterfly.

I'll typically be gone 4-5 days a week.  This could last for several weeks at a time.  Or months.


Because of this schedule, I will often be at work until after 8 o'clock.  This makes talking to the girls difficult because I bump up against their bedtimes.


Surely, I could take minute out of work to talk to the girls, right?  Sadly, it doesn't always work that way.


So, while I'm busy being worker bee, a coworker made time for his daughter several times a day in 15 minute intervals.  Right in earshot of the rest of us.


How sweet, you think.  His daughter is more important to him than work.  Clearly, hearing his voice brightens his little girls day.


However.


His daughter is only seven months old.


He sings that "Poppa's Gonna Buy You a Mockingbird" song.  He's memorized a children's picture book called "Bubbles" which he happily recites several times per phone call - "Bubbles, bubbles on my nose.  Bubbles, bubbles on my toes."   You get the idea.


He makes animal sounds, some of which I am at a loss to identify.


But still, I wonder, is he forming an unbreakable bond with this girl, regardless of her young age?  Will his pure joy equate to joy from his daughter?


Or is he just nuts?