The mysteries of camp.

It was now a full week ago that I dropped my duo at their respective camps. In the week that's past I  have heard very little from either of them. 

I did receive a "I'm having a great day, I hope you are too!" letter from Little Miss Thang. And Boy Genius wrote to tell me he liked the french toast. 

I enjoy these little bits. They make me giggle. And quite frankly, I'll take pretty much anything I can get. I scour thousands {no exaggeration} of pictures each and every day searching for a smile. Two smiles a day and I'm quite stable. Pleasant even. And occasionally I hit the jackpot and see more than my share of happy faces.

Nonetheless, it all seems more than just a little bit mysterious.

I think Boy Genius is in this circle. Somewhere. Maybe.

You see, I've sent my kids to live with strangers for two {long} weeks.

I assume they are happy.

I assume they are eating more than Skittles and biscuits.

I assume they have each made a few friends.

I assume they enjoy their activities.

I assume they are actually resting during rest hour instead of writing me detailed letters.

I wouldn't have sent them if I wasn't fairly confident it would be a good experience.

But yet, I remain befuddled by how it all works without me?

Who decides what they wear each day?

Boy Genius has clearly not found the 15 shirts I packed as I've yet to see him pictured wearing a shirt at all. And Little Miss Thang has worn the same swimsuit every day from what I can gather. We packed 5. 

Who reminds them it is chilly in the morning and they need a fleece {clearly we are not in Texas}?

Again, clearly no one as far as Boy Genius is concerned as he is now a shirtless wonder. And Little Miss is pictured soaking wet on numerous occasions. Hello, wear your slicker?!?

Who tells them to eat some food, any food, to fuel their little bodies?

Boy Genius did mention the french toast. So in the past 8 days I'm certain he ate one meal. Great. Little Miss Thang is most certainly living on biscuits. 

Who tells them to brush their teeth for more than 15 seconds at a time?

Thankfully I have no proof this has or has not occurred. If anyone has a cavity on our next visit, though, I'm blaming it on camp. Not on my watch. 

And who in the world is brushing Little Miss Thang's crazy hair?

Her very thick blond hair is a beast to say the least. It certainly requires patience and perseverance when brushing. She has no patience. Or perseverance when it comes to glossy locks. I fear the nest that will result after two weeks without a good brushing. 

Without me there, how do they survive at all?

And, if I'm at all honest, all signs indicate they are doing quite a bit more than just surviving.

In her element. 

Shirtless wonders a plenty.