It's coming...

I can almost feel the sweat running down my back, making a cold shower seem the best idea since sliced bread. (Gross, Katie! We don't want to hear about sweat.) (Sorry, people, but I'm all about keepin' it real.)

I can almost feel the itchy terror of the chigger bites covering every available area of my being. (Use bugspray, idiot.) (Well, for your information, I don't like bugspray. It makes me feel sticky and stinky. So there.)

I can clearly hear the beautiful singing, wafting from end to end of Camp, pulling late-risers out of bed in the morning and soothing children to sleep at night.

I can see the mist rising above the pond in the early, early morning. (Ha! As if you ever get up early.) (I do get up early during camp. Sometimes as early as 6:15 - so ha! yourself.)

I watch the puff of the sand on the volley ball court as another sucker hits the dirt after sacrificing their body's well-being for the sake of a stupid ball. (Hey! Some people love volley ball! Back off, missy!) (Some people are just dumb. And some are smart; they watch volley ball from a safe distance on the bleachers.)

I can feel the welcome coldness of the much longed for popsicle as it slowly drips down my hand and turns my tongue bright pink.

I can hear the screeching coming from the girl's bathhouse when a snake drops from the ceiling, or when a mouse runs out from under the benches.

I can all-too-vividly anticipate the ache in my back after sleeping for a week on a bunk bed made out of plywood and metal.

I can smell the fishy-ness of the pond, and see the multitudes of barefooted boys rushing around with worms and fishing rods and ropes of teensy-tiny fish clutched proudly in grimy fists.



The dirt, the heat, the sweat, the noise, the cheers at the ball field, the happy faces of the filthy children, the cries of the hurt tot who can't find his mommy, the smell of hamburgers grilling, the preaching, the singing, the bonfire, the bible studies, the green and white canoes, the smothering life jackets, the friends made, the bitter rivalry between the little girls' cabin and the little boys' cabin in cabin clean-up, the hum of mosquitoes, the long meal lines, the late night whispered conversations after lights out, the rhythm of the ping-pong balls as they are batted back and forth, the clusters of people all around, talking and laughing and sometimes crying, all this is Camp. You can't have some of it without having all of it.

But I can tell you this: it's worth it.