As someone who has worked at camp for six years now, I have the privilege (or curse) of seeing various campers grow up, as they return to camp every summer. This year, there were a few different campers in different cabins that I had counselled in previous summers. Sometimes you can’t understand how they’ve changed (“They were so co-operative last year!”) or you forget some of their quirks (“Oh right, he was the one who kept asking questions.”), or you just plain forget you’ve counselled them (“What do you mean do I remember you? I’ve seen hundreds of kids every summer! You’re lucky I can remember my own name!”).
Now, over lunch one day, three of the kids in the cabin I was helping with, (as an activity instructor, I don’t counsel in a cabin, but I do help out each week) were sitting at the same table as I was. Two other staff, Rochelle and Lisa were sitting there, too, and a conversation between camper Timothy and Lisa ensues.
Cast of Characters:
Lisa (nature instructor, blond girl, good at math)
Camper Timothy (eight or nine years old, blond boy, very inquisitive)
I (me, as passive observer, brunette boy)
As Lisa is sitting next to Camper Timothy, for whatever reason, Camper Timothy has struck a very strange topic of conversation.
Camper Tim: Did you know beer is good for you?
Lisa: It is not! Who told you?
Camper Tim: (eyes go wide, looking confused) It is too! My dad has let me have some once and he drinks beer too! He gave me this much! (itty-bitty amount shown by his fingers, about a centimeter or so)
Lisa: Well, you shouldn’t be drinking beer! You’re a kid and it is bad for you.
Camper Tim: (eyes are wide and he is in a state of real shocked confusion) Nuh-uh! My dad drinks it all the time, it’s good for your body!
Lisa: Let me tell you the truth. Beer kills your liver. Are you thinking of Red Wine? That can be good for your heart, if you drink it appropriately.
Camper Tim: (thinks, silently for a while. Then with a start he concedes) Oh yeah. Then this is wine, too! (As he takes his red juice and swigs it down, then resumes his meal, leaving Lisa, Rochelle and I in amused silence.)
Kids say the darndest things!
kids do say the darndest things. things like, i’m hungry, and i want to eat at mcdonalds, and my dad could beat you up, and stop telling me to shut up my mom says my opinion matters too. yeah…kids are pretty precious.
This post was so funny, I am willing to forgive the fact that my stageplay method has been shamelessly plagiarized, without so much as a footnote to credit its innovator (*tsk tsk*).