An almost-week at a nearby (sleepaway) camp was set to be the real summer kick-off for Finn and Molly. Out from under parents’ noses and with friends — some old, some new — in the woods for swimming, boating, singing, dancing, crafting, floor hockey, and many more forms of fun… How could camp not live up to their expectations? They’ve had such a good time there in the past.
Norovirus, that’s how. Here’s a synopsis from today’s local newspaper. Finny spent the last night there vomiting. Molly tried to resist by eating only minute amounts, but she succumbed a day after getting home. The counselors were just as affected as the kids, and I have only praise for those leaders who remained standing, washing laundry and cleaning cabins as they could.
The kids gamely posed for a photo before we left camp, but you can tell from their faces that they’re “not at 100%,” as Finn might say. Molly had counted 99 mosquito bites on her petite frame. Finn sacrificed his pillow in the battle with illness, and Molly’s watch was missing. A little worse for wear this time ’round, but they’ve recovered quickly and are already talking about the prospect of being counselors-in-training when they’re a little older.