We are not supposed to call Leo's camp under any circumstances except emergencies. So you can imagine the intensity with which my chest exploded each time the phone rang with the camp's caller ID. KA-BOOM! POW!
Thankfully neither call was about an actual emergency, the kind that would require us to remove our extremely lazy selves from this mountaintop.
One was a question: What the hell does your kid eat? My answer: since there's an anaphylactic peanut allergy at camp and he mostly eats PB&J sandwiches, not a hell of a lot. I told them that it would be okay if he spent six days surviving on bread, bananas, apples, and the yogurt I sent in to be mixed with his meds. It's camp. Now that I know the camp does food allergies lockdowns, I'll send extra food (veggie booty, extra yogurt etc.) just in case, for next time.
The second call was to let me know Leo got bitten by another camper. No broken skin, and Leo's fine. But he'll have a mark. My reaction: I had to stop myself from laughing. Not that it wasn't serious, but -- they're calling me for that? There's no way his injury could be worse than the bite marks & black eyes from a recent Lucy/Mali brawl. He's likely forgotten about it already. Seymour and I think Leo probably tried to swipe someone else's food.
I can't wait to find out what else transpired at camp when we talk to his aide during Friday's pickup.
Meanwhile, Seymour and I have two plans for today: 1) Truckin' down the Truckee & 2) Dinner & libations with Jennyalice's wonderful sister Demanda & her pastorly partner. Mmm, vacation!