Now the fools' parents need to find some way to entertain the fools during the long summer months. In our house that means signing both
Our kids attend a variety of summer camps, but all of them pale in comparison to the annual week-long overnight camp at grandma's house. Yes, Camp Grandma is the highlight of the summer for everyone except, perhaps, grandma.
A week before camp, the questions start.
"Are you leaving us at Grandma's? "
"You're not staying with us, right?"
"We get to stay at grandma's all week!?"
Clearly, we are a total buzz kill. Our kids want us out of their hair for a week.
Of course, secretly, hubby and I are ticking off the days until Camp Grandma like prisoners counting days until release. As we pull our minivan out of grandma's driveway, we try to keep our hooting, yelping, and cries of joy from reaching our children's precious ears.
"Ohhhh, sweet freedom!" we yell as we drive away like bats out of hell.
We are eager to flee before Grandma comes to her senses and decides this whole "Camp Grandma" gig is overrated.
Camp Grandma is a week filled with parenting indiscretions.
Frankly, I'm amazed Camp Grandma is run by the same lady who raised me.
At Camp Grandma there is actually a cookie jar filled with...get this...cookies!
Kids can eat from the cookie jar without...believe it or not...being scolded!
Kids don't have to eat everything on their plates because....are you ready for this? ...maybe they aren't hungry!
Kids can play more video games because...I can't believe this one...they want to!
Children eat pancakes for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Days are filled with trips to the zoo, toy store, drive-in theatre, waterpark, and random festivals. Root beer floats are served nightly and the television is on non-stop. Or so our children say.
Grandma is adamant her grandchildren are lying, little heathens who do not get everything they want during their 7 days at Camp
I'm really not sure who is lying about the shenanigans that go on at Camp Grandma.
All I know is when I pick up my precious, sugar-filled angles at the end of the week, and ask them to do something, anything, their glazed over eyes look at me like I've lost my mind.
"Grandma doesn't make us do that," they say in unison.
Well, kids, welcome back to reality.