My kids went to American summer camp for the first time yesterday. My mom dropped them off to avoid any drama on the part of Five, who sometimes has last minute separation anxiety when I take him to school. She said they barely waved goodbye when they saw the other kids and the foosball tables.
I couldn’t believe how much work I got done yesterday while my mother enjoyed a nice, long talk on the phone with an old friend, and then she cleaned the house. We took a break mid-afternoon, sat outside, and my mother said, “I love your children, but it is so nice and quiet without them. I hope you don’t mind me saying that!” Of course I didn’t; They were my thoughts exactly.
When I went to pick the boys up, Five complained, “You said we could stay all day!”
“You did stay all day. It’s almost dinner time.”
“What?” said Five.
“It feels like lunchtime,” added Nine.
Which explains why they didn’t eat the lunches I had packed for them.
On the way home, Nine said, “We made boats with duck tape. What’s duck tape? Is it called that because it doesn’t sink?”
Later, from behind the shower curtain, as he rinsed shampoo out of his hair, Five told me about not knowing all the words for things. “Everyone asked me ‘You speak Spanish?’ All the time, ‘You speak Spanish?’ Why dem think I know Spanish?”
“Did you tell them you speak Italian?”
“No. I don’t know how say ‘italiano‘ in English.”
“So what did you say?”
“I just said ‘Leave it alone'”.
At dinner, Nine asked why the kids shout “FOOS” when the ball gets stuck in a place no one kick it. “In Italy we just move the ball and you don’t have to shout anything.”
Then he wanted to know about dodge ball. “Tell me the rules!” he demanded.
“I used to love that game!” said Grandma. “That was my favorite game!! Everyone gets in a circle and…”
“Well, that’s not how we did it,” said Nine, and proceeded to tell us the rules himself.