Yesterday I had started to read an article that caught my interest.
It began, “Breast Feeding Champion” and before I could find out who Sally Peabody had to beat to become champion, it was time to pick up the girls from camp.
Ellie made a decision early in the week that would put a damper on things.
Campers were scheduled to swim twice throughout the day. After a quick and easy test to determine those swimmers who would require life jackets for the week and those who could swim unassisted, the kids were allotted some free time in the pool.
For some reason, Ellie (and a friend) opted out of the test entirely, foregoing the right to swim without a life jacket for the entire week as the test was a onetime deal and no amount of muttering under my breath to the custodial staff “but she knows how to swim” was going to change the ruling.
I asked Ellie why she didn’t want to take the test and she explained, “I was a little tired.”
Okay. I thought this would teach her a lesson in how the decisions she makes have consequences and she would now be stuck wearing a life jacket for an entire week to paddle around swimmers who were permitted free time on the diving board and other water activities I know Ellie would love.
I pictured her sitting in a turtle pool on the deck with children in diapers watching her peers play water polo and perfect their synchronized swimming routines using she and her friend as props.
Day 2
Me: Ellie, did you go swimming today?
Ellie: No, someone pooped in the pool.
Day 3
Me: Ellie, did you go swimming today?
Ellie: Yes but just once, the afternoon swim was cancelled because….
Me: Someone pooped in the pool?
Ellie: They didn’t tell us but, yeah, probably.
I unpacked the swimming bags and noticed Ellie’s towel was folded perfectly the way I had sent it (okay, not perfectly so much as it was shoved in the bag in a recognizable scrunch) and her bathing suit was bone dry with no scent of heavy, public swimming pool chemicals or hints of camp related fecal matter.
Then I looked at Ellie’s hair and realized the lopsided pony tail I had sent her to camp sporting that morning was still very much intact.
Me: Ellie, did you go swimming today?
Ellie: Yes but just once…. (looking behind her to a mother holding her dry suit and neatly folded scrunched up towel)
Ellie: No, I didn’t swim today.
Me: Why not?
Ellie holding her cheek with an upside down, nonsensical finger positioning.
Ellie: Well, I have this…..bruise.
She quickly swapped hands to her other cheek and pressed firmly, I guess in the hopes of forming a bruise.
She is nothing if not resourceful.
We got home and had a nice family dinner, explained why her earlier decision to not participate has impacted her enjoyment for an entire week.
We had a swim in our backyard and Ellie started shouting, “Mommy! You’ve gotta see this! This really is a sight to see!”
I looked up.
Ellie: See the birds, there’s like FORTY!
Me: Yes, amazing.
Ellie: Like FORTY BIRDS! This is unbelievable! Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, Four (she held up four fingers on one hand, I was curious if she knew the number forty comprised of a four, followed by a zero) with her other hand she made the letter “D” in sign language. “See Mom, Four-D!”
I couldn’t be too hard on her. She was obviously delirious from the bruise.
