I made one of my all-too-frequent mistakes the other day.
Ethan is in a half-day camp this week, and I could have sworn it was from 9-12 each morning. Hell, I even thought I had double-checked it.
With Monday being a holiday, he started on Tuesday. The short week was by design – he doesn’t have the best track record of behavior when he’s away from home. Most teachers don’t seem to possess my flair for hard-nosed drill sergeantry. That probably says more about me than about them, but I figured a four-day week meant less risk of receiving a phone call informing me that I am an awful parent because my son is incorrigible.
Okay, to be fair, nobody has actually ever said that, and were they to do so, they might leave the area relieved of their dignity if not a tooth or two, but look – any parent knows that’s what it feels like they’re saying when you get The Call.
But I digress.
Back to my mistake. I was wrong. His camp was actually 1 p.m. – 4 p.m., and of course I didn’t figure this out until we showed up there. Ha ha, egg on my face, super duper awesome. Oh, well. I told him we would just have to go back home and come back after lunch, and to his credit he took it very well.
Here’s what redeemed the whole thing on the way home:
Ethan: “How long until we get to come back?”
Me: “Four hours.” (bracing myself for Meltdown 2011)
Ethan: “Four hours? Oh, well, that means we can go someplace that takes an hour to get there, stay there for two hours, and then drive back. Then it will be time to go to camp.”
Really, I didn’t know what to say. I was just so grateful he understood that concept. I think I stuttered something about how awesome he was to understand math that way and that it would serve him well in the future, I liked the way he thought, and all that malarkey.
By the way, we just finished day 3 of camp and although I have been on pins and needles each and every day waiting for The Call, guess what? No phone calls! He’s having a great time, making volcanoes and Flubber, tie-dyeing shirts and playing with magnets, and tomorrow?
Tomorrow he gets to make ICE CREAM.
The success this week has brought almost – almost – makes me dread his Kindergarten entry a little less.
Keep your fingers crossed.