I recently got a new calling in church.
I got called to the Young Women program (as secretary), helping with the young girls in our ward.
When I was extended the call, I blurted "Do I have to go to Girl's Camp?"
You see, the whole presidency was called 3 weeks before camp.
Um, three weeks.
As one of the few working leaders, I was unable to take a whole week off from work on such short notice (and I had just taken a fabulous trip to D.C.). So I went and spent the last two nights.
My camp duties were mostly pre-camp.
And they were challenging and well, let's just say stressful.
But we made it and camp was a success. (minus the sleepless nights from the girls' giggles and a cabin of snoring. Remind me to kiss Jacob for not being a snore-er.)
When I was a girl we were told about the scary things that lurk in the lake.
As a leader I am now in on it. It is a tale to scare the kiddies into not splashing each other.
Well played, former leaders. Well played.
The goal was to encourage tons of service among the girls, and to wear nerdy accessories.
The girls loved getting facials and manicures from the two cleanest leaders.
Ok- I'll be real. It is generous to call what I did "manicures."
I more globbed on paint to their nails. (I am awful at nail painting.)
It is near impossible to tell the sex on these things.
Sadly, Sally died at camp a few hours later. I suppose he/she was not ready to be domesticated.
It is a joke in our ward that our kind of camping should be called 'pamp-ing.'
Because we are so pampered at camp. (cabins, excellent food, flushing toilets)
But to me, it is as serious of camping that I would ever like to get.