First day of camp:
Last day of camp:Note that nervous smile of a newbie has been replaced with one of a confident, if toothless, camper...
Jo is home from camp, and loved it every bit as much as we suspected she would. She loved it so much, in fact, that she spent most of the day yesterday weeping. First she'd cry because she missed being at camp, and then she'd weep because she felt she might be hurting our feelings. Ah yes, that's our Jo - she came with built-in guilt trips.
We've been hearing camp song after camp song, which is killing Lindsay, who chose drama camp over "normal" camp this year. She moped the entire car ride to pick up Jo, but luckily (for her) managed to suck it up at the last minute and look excited to see her sister. (And she did a great job of giving Jo her moment in the sun.)
Brendan didn't come with us at the last minute because he injured his back the day before, and I told him to rest; I underestimated how much Jo wanted him there. A quick phone call alerted Brendan that he better look on death's door when we get home so Jo really understands he couldn't have come to pick her up.
When we arrived home, the house was dark, and in the back bedroom, Brendan lay motionless on the bed, wrapped in a sheet, with his hands on his chest like a corpse. Mozart's Requiem played on the cd player, and he reached blindly for Jo's face - "Jo? Is that you? Come closer?"
All was forgiven...