The second week in July brought the long-awaited Brittish soccer camp. Which was promptly renamed Camp Hurts Alot. A half hour before we were due to be there, we realized that the shin guards were missing in action. And I grumbled on the five-minute drive over to the high school that “Mommy would be compromising her principals by going to the place that starts with a W and ends with a T to buy new ones”. Returning with them, my phone rang. It was his coach Kevin. In his cute Scottish accent, he says Eamon wasn’t feeling well. Later that night I figured out he had hit his head on the ground. That would explain why his vision went dark and fuzzy. An almost concussion.
His buddy Isaac had a bloody nose. Some girl had an asthma attack. And another kid fell on a bee that stung them in the neck. When we got home, the first day of his sunburn made his eyes look like someone had punched him. And he said his toe hurt. He needed a soft surface to sit on. And his too long toenail had bent back. By the end of the week, despite repeated applications of 30 proof sunblock, he had those shiners. And the last day? Some kid squirted him in the eyes with perfume. Apparently, he was hysterical. My phone only flashed, no beeping for missed calls, only e-mails. Right. When I arrived, he was fine. Luckily, the heavy downfall of rain had brought them inside to play in the gymnasium. Coach Kevin was a doll. Eamon never complained about the burn.
Saturday, Fiona and I went looking for Daddy and Eamon.
We found them in the garden weeding around Eamon’s tomato plant, two volunteer sunflowers, and a cluster of cucumber vines that must have seeded from one of my fits of composting.
And Sunday, today, well it was a full on work camp day for Eamon since he chose to bold face lie to Dad yesterday. Shakin’ that bush boss. So he got the pleasure of mulching the garden patch. And various other outside tasks before noon. Then they came inside for some Mommy requested Honey Dos. Out with the guest bed and assemble the crib for Fiona!
Now that the bubble of stuck has been broken in her room, I can maybe advance to actually hammering down the details and decisions on the redesign of her room as suggested in this post.
I would however like to be a little less productive and a have a little more Summer fun. Anyone want to join me? Remember Camp Shalagh from last year? Offer still stands. Remember how much fun I had with the first attendee, my long-lost friend Sarah? Book a slot now.