Day is Done
Johnny bounded out of bed, pulled on his Chiefs jersey and said, "Quick. Let's get this day over with."
Apparently, he had slept in his shorts and shoes and socks. My kids do this a lot to save time in the morning. Often, I'll walk by their room at 9:30 at night, and they are pulling on their school uniforms. Only boys do this.
No matter how early a grownup's morning meeting, for some reason, he never settles into bed wearing his suit and wingtips.
Richie groggily staggered into the living room. "Are we going to Boston now?"
"Tomorrow we're going to Boston," I said. "Today is the last day of camp."
After getting on his shoes and eating toast, he made his way to the car. Clicking on his seatbelt, he asked, "So now are we going to Boston?"
Time has no meaning to Richie. It's one long journey in which sometimes it's today and sometimes it's tomorrow and sometimes we're in Kansas City and sometimes we're not even on Planet Earth. I love that about him.
On the way to camp, Johnny said, "I have more evidence that this is summer school, not summer camp."
As Detective My Mom is Sending Me to Summer School, Not Camp, he is very close to cracking the case.
"Really? Let's hear it."
"I have a test today."
With that, I pulled up to the--oh, all right--summer school, and dropped the boys off.
When I picked them up, Johnny was carrying a tiny flower pot he'd painted to look like a bee. He called out to friends and teachers and said goodbye. A few people patted him on the back and said, "You'll be back next summer, right?"
"Uh, Yeah!" Johnny kept saying enthusiastically.
Richie was smiling big, but not waving goodbye. He was probably recalling his Speed Stack victories of the day. (Richie can stack plastic cups like nobody's business. After hearing him talk about the game for a few hours every day, we got him a set for his birthday. Now, woo-eee, he sets the dining room on fire with those cups.)
Out in the parking lot, Johnny held the pot high and said, "This is my promise to return next year." Then he pretended to throw it to the ground.
"You know what?" I said. "You guys don't have to. You can go to J.J.'s school's camp."
"Actually, I was just joking," Johnny said. "I do want to go to this camp next year."
"I thought you said it was summer school."
"It is. But I want to see the kids I met next year."
To him, I guess it's not where you go but who you go with.
Richie, meanwhile, who loved the camp, especially the Speed Stacking, said, "I might try J.J.'s camp next year."
For him, it's not where you go but how many new people you meet going there.