It is 1:37 in the afternoon, and I am not afraid to admit it, I am just waking up. After two weeks of sleeping less than four hours a night in preparation for girl's camp, and then the three hours (or less) over the last four nights, I'm not too proud to say, " I. Am. Tired."
What a great week. We were fed by the goddess of cooking (and my friend, Sassy Britches) who can make ANYTHING taste like it just came from Wolfgang Puck's kitchen...except it's better, because she cooked it. We laughed until the wee hours of the morning every night, we enjoyed the rich, (and sometimes confusing) conversation of teenage women--without bringing home any annoying ticks or teenage catch phrases.
I have not said the phrase "epic fail" once in the last 24 hours, so I know that the most popular phrase of camp hasn't clamped its painted nail talons onto me (thank heavens) and it was a great week all in all.
There were a couple of conversations I thought would result in some worried emails by parents--like how to push out a baby--trust me, it sounds worse than it was--or when Mrs. Marcus told us about her first date with her sweetheart and one of our spunkiest girls blurted out, "And then he said, let' go to the janitor's closet!" Which made us all laugh, then wonder what T.V. show she's been watching, or which janitor's closets she's been walking by.
But one thing was clear: if the future of the world is in the hands of the young people, we're gonna be alright.
Now, I'm off to do a Mount Everest pile of laundry, and shower again to see if I can get the smell of campfire out of my hair.
What did you do this week?