Well friends. Another summer of Camp Kearney has begun. That makes 5 years for those of you who are counting...I'm starting to feel like an old person compared to these young bucks they've hired this year.
So for the first two weeks I chose Pack 7. They are about 10 years old...mostly going into 5th grade. A little younger than I'm used to, but I'll be real, it's nice to have kids adore you for once. Today they argued over who got to be "me." AKA who got to wear my whistle, name tag and sun glasses. Go ahead kids, boost my ego a little more. Love it.
So today one of our activities is fishing. I hate fishing. Not the actual act of fishing, but fishing in this situation. It's hyper hot...ten year olds tangle lines...loosing bait...blah blah blah (in the words of my boss). Also. We don't have a lot of real bait...the lake is actually the city reservoir...it's super nasty....there are a million reasons it's about the worst activity ever.
So, after a while I guess my kids stopped believing me that their hooks were worm flavored (so I wouldn't have to refill them constantly) and they started to wander. It was at this point that they came across our friend Lucky. Now, you can guess how the story ends based on his name...so don't stress too much.
Bless Lucky's heart, he was tangled up in some fishing line...and maybe potentially ate a hook. We're not 100% sure. (When I say we I mean myself and my 11 kids all staring at this poor bird almost in tears, the kids, not the bird). So poor Lucky is struggling for life. He's flapping all over the place, cheeping and whatnot. I try several release tactics...but let's be real...I'm not touching the bird, he might have rabies. It's not working and I'm starting to become convinced that I'm going to have to teach my ten year olds about death and host a bird funeral.
I send some kids to get some scissors from the boat building...there are none...Lucky's still flappin'. So I send some kids all the way up the hill and bless their hearts they dead sprint all the way because they are so concerned about this bird. I stay with the remaining kids and try to reassure them that I'm sure Lucky didn't swallow a hook and it's just his little foot that's stuck. Lucky's still a flappin...
Finally the kids come back with scissors (blunt kid scissors for the record) and with 11 kids surrounding me and Lucky I work on setting him free. Unfortunately this is easier said than done because Lucky keeps flapping and is really not super eager for me to approach him. Finally Lucky realizes that I'm there to help (after I talked birdy to him for like 5 minutes) (pun FULLY intended). I cut the line and Lucky flies free...well...more like half flies half hobbles. Then he proceeds to sit in the mud for like 10 minutes while my kids sit and stare at him. I assure them that he's probably just taking a break and he'll fly away really soon... yeah...
So being the precious good Samaritans that they are, my kids decide that they better clean up all the fishing line from around the rest of the "lake" to prevent this from happening to any other poor little birdies. Seriously, these children are precious.
The rest of the day my kiddos were super nature conscious and cleaned up trash everywhere (and there is a lot...it's a public park after all...yesterday we found a syringe, or a "shot" as they called it...I've also found condoms on more than one occasion) and refused to kill bugs. Love their hearts...my psycho nature loving ways are rubbing off on them.
For the record, when our director found out about this whole scenario...he yelled at them for running with scissors...never mind the bird they saved...whatevs.
Then I saved our assistant director from being tackled by a kid who was trying to run and jump in the lake because we wouldn't let him keep the nasty hooks and bait he found in the trash can. Kid was about the hyperventilate...I considered getting a paper bag.
Then I ate 6 cheap government popsicles...my own personal form of crack...and called it a day. Now I'm sitting on my couch watching Wipe Out...I am OBSESSED with Wipe Out...whoever thought of this mess was a genius. Tomorrow is water day...which always promises a good time.
Peace, Love and Treehugging Ten Year Olds,
Claire
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