Rocky Road goes to Camp

Frankie is away at camp this week. It's a bitter-sweet experience to take him there. On the one hand, I'm so excited for him, because I know he enjoys it so much. On the other hand, I worry that it will rain all week, that he'll come home with a horrible disease, or worse, that he won't make any friends.

As you may know, Frankie marches to his own beat most of the time. He is such an outgoing and innocent kid that he sometimes doesn't notice when "cool" kids find him lame. That's mostly a good thing, I guess. But, no one wants their kid to be mocked or ostracized.

I can't believe I'm even admitting to this, considering some of my previous posts about the importance of Rocky Road, but I took special care to pack non-geeky clothing and non-loser games. I packed on the Vanilla side of the spectrum for the week. Frankie didn't notice. He was just happy he didn't have to pack.

As we were walking up to the cabin, Arthur noticed that Frankie's pillow tag was poking out of the pillow case, quite prominently displaying the "Laura Ashley" brandname for all the world to see. He stopped in the parking lot to flip the pillow around.

"All he needs is to be branded 'Laura' all week," Arthur commented. Ten year-old boys can be very cruel. Frankie, however, was completely oblivious.

We walked into the cabin, and Frankie had a minor heart attack when his friend (whom we call Shaggy) wasn't already there. A look of absolute terror gripped him for a couple of seconds, then he composed himself, and asked his cabin head if Shaggy had checked-in yet. Turns out that he was in the bunk next to Frankie, and was just off exploring the campground with his parents. Whew. Minor crisis averted.

Next, in came a rather rotund little boy clutching his pillow and bag. His mother, who was similar in shape to her son, spread out his sleeping bag on his bunk. At that moment, I am ashamed to admit, my worries for Frankie vanished. The boy had brought a Winnie-The-Pooh sleeping bag and pillow to camp. Even Frankie noticed this.

If anyone was going to be picked on this week, it wouldn't be Frankie. Thank the gods for thoughtless, over-protective mothers of fat children.

Truly, if there is one, I am going to hell.