I never went to summer camp, but lately, I’m regretting that decision. I did go to Camp Storer for a week in sixth grade. I wasn’t ready for it. I cried almost every night. I cried when this douchebag counselor named Dirk reenacted the Underground Railroad way too realistically. I quit halfway up the climbing wall. I did like the cabin, though, and the ghost stories, and the night there was a tornado warning. I liked knowing there was a cabin of BOYS just across the field. I dunno…just didn’t wanna be there in sixth grade.
But now I wish I woulda pulled summer camp duty. As an adult, nothing seems as though it’s off limits. If you’re old enough to pay, you’re old enough to do it. I pay taxes, loans, bills…therefore, I can drink, live alone, have wine for dinner, pick the color of my curtains… Whatever happened to someone telling me I can’t?
Because you all can agree with this: When someone tells you that you can’t, it’s so much more fun when you get away with it.
So I propose to you, my friends and bloggies, that we begin a summer camp–FOR ADULTS.
We shall call it Camp Lackawanna Grow Up, and it will be in the hills. We’ll have to earn our alcohol by winning competitions and races to the mess hall, and or we’ll have to sneak it in. This is where the flasks engraved with “Shameless” that Jenny and I bought for each other will come in handy–whiskey and wine, baby.
There will be bonfires at least three times a week, and an endless supply of marshmallows for s’mores. There will be ghost stories, and cuddling by the campfire.
NO co-ed cabins. If you’re going to sneak a boy into your cabin, well you’d better get permission from your other bunk mates, and make them vow to never rat you out. And then you have to keep the giggles under control when said man begins to snore and you have to pretend it’s you.
There will be canoeing, dancing in the moonlit summer rainstorms, music, food fights, skinny dipping in the lake, softball, catch, and awkward tan lines. Hitchhiking into town, quiet whispers of scheming girls to attack the boys’ cabin.
GAH. I missed out. What do you say, friends? We can’t do it for a whole summer, because we have jobs (we hope). But we can do it for a long weekend. Who wants to go camping this summer? In East Harbor, or Mohican? In PA? WHO IS COMING WITH ME?!?!?
RSVP in comments. Because I’m serious. This thing is happening. If I get a big enough response, I’ll set this thing up for summer time, and we can meet up, eat s’mores, and sleep in tents. Yes?
Great, I’ll see you there.