Margit’s Note: Are You My New Bunkmate?

For some, camp is first-time-away-from-home ecstasy; for others, it’s the ultimate bug-juice-induced torture. And this week — as former campers and parents of campers — we cover the gamut.

I happened to experience both. The first camp I attended, around the age of 12, was a quaint Poconos Lutheran camp where we crafted rainbow God’s eyes and sang vaguely religious campfire songs. It was also the site of my first massive crush — a stone-cold-fox boys’ camp counselor who always wore a red flannel shirt and black sailor’s cap. Now, he was heaven.

The hell: At 13, I found myself in a much fancier Chesapeake Bay camp featuring the nastiest bully I’ve ever encountered, albeit one in a monogrammed pink polo. She slept in the bunk below me and would nightly shove her feet repeatedly in the back of my flimsy bed and call me Fatso as I flew into the air. Thankfully I bonded with an adorable Swedish sailing instructor who spoke little English.

Ja, ja, ready about, hard alee!”

Sigh. A camp crush can heal all.

From the campground:

This is a jam-packed, two-week issue folks. We’re taking next week off to celebrate our 1 year anniversary of TueNight! More on that to come…

See you at the canteen,


Tell Us in the Comments

What do you think?

2 Responses

  1. designsponge

    annasale TueNight I got a little teary thinking about this, vespers and the green team 🙂

  2. campculture

    LaurenYoung TueNight I haven’t. Thanks or sharing.


Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.