the prodigal son returneth

the boy came home today.

he's been at camp colman, near olympia, for the past week.

yesterday we received a letter from him that must've been written his first day away. it includes a couple of illustrations of a sad boy, and a mournful plea to rescue him from his asylum.

the letter, quite pointedly, was addressed to mrs. spaceneedl. that hurt, a little. i mean, i wasn't the one who signed him up for camp purgatory.

bygones.

at the risk of revealing the boy's heart of hearts, here's the gist of his letter...

"hi mom, i'm homesick already and almost cried. i wish you were here. p.s. please come pick me up, i'm not sure i'm ready for this yet.

"oh yeah, thanks for the chess game, book and cards :-)

"mail me back and say if you will pick me up.

"love (heart heart) preston."

the boy is a sensitive soul, easily wounded. he hides his vulnerability behind veneers ranging from bravado to indifference. for example, boarding the bus at the beginning of the week, he neither protested nor looked back. he gave no indication that he was facing anything out of the ordinary or even interesting.

it's hard to discern how he fared during the week. he hasn't offered up anything substantive (to me, anyway). does he want to go to camp orkila next year? no. did he have fun? i guess. what was the best part? i don't know.

it's like having a 10-year old teenager in the house.

he must've done something entertaining. the entire place is a fun factory. water sports, ropes courses, climbing walls, sports courts, an archery range. you can't swing on a giant swing without hitting something fun.

he's probably way over-tired. he probably couldn't find much to eat at camp. he probably would like nothing better than to go hang out with a friend and regale him for hours with camp tales.

dad, meanwhile, will have to settle for unresponsive responses and unsupported assumptions.

maybe someday mrs. spaceneedl will fill me in on the details from our son's first week away from home.

or, maybe i'll just go jump in a lake.

at camp colman.

that sounds like fun.