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Minus 13 Hours

Posted by Mummy Dearest on Sep-12-2005

Whirling around today, getting last minute things arranged for The Boy and The Father, who both leave tomorrow.

Last year was The Boy’s first time at school camp. At the time , he was in a friendless mode, and so I was quite apprehensive about him leaving. He shocked my socks off by returning home, having had a wonderful time. Wasn’t I happy for him ?

This time, he has already been asked by a friend to park his sleeping bag next to the boy. His list in hand, I sent him off this weekend to gather up the things that he would need for the 4 day adventure. He did reasonably well. Including the shoes upon his feet, he will have 5 ( yes, 5) pairs of footwear , as per the list : boots, gym shoes, shower slippers ( read : flip- flops) and an extra pair of shoe- shoes.

This afternoon, I went through his pile. He did bring down a good supply of socks, but no underwear in sight. Nor any pajamas. No t-shirts- although the weather should be pleasant tomorrow- and the warm pullover he chose is two sizes too small. I did a quick re- selection and packed up his two bags, little green tags dangling from their corners. The Boy, Group 7.

(More than) shortly before 5, he and I and The Baby took off to the school, to deliver his luggage to the truck. We were quite early- for I loathe being late- and as we stood in the courtyard, Mr. X be-bopped by. He told us just to leave The Boy’s stuff in the courtyard, the truck would arrive any minute now. Were we going to help load it? The Boy said, sure !

And so we helped load a truck that went from here to there, simply huge. We set the children in a long snake, like a batch of fire-fighters passing buckets, and loaded bag after bag, box after box, from the little one’s gym, through the courtyard, across the street, over the wall surrounding the school and into the truck.

I was at the gym end and kept the parcels flowing. Even The Baby helped. The children obviously enjoyed it very much, all of them.

The Boy is excited, super-balling around the house, strange high pitched noises accompanying him. But at certain moments, he pauses and is quiet : I’ll miss you, he tells me. And I tell him that I will miss him too. But not at lunch. And he will have a wonderful time.

I know it.

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