The Adjustment Period

While Charlie and I were walking the dog early this evening, I reminded my “camp-resistant” son that he had Art Camp coming up…like tomorrow.

Charlie: And you thought that by telling me now, during this walk, I could start my “adjustment period” (Charlie’s name for the period of whining and griping he subjects me to throughout the entire evening post first day of any camp he’s been enrolled in) and then I’d be less cranky about it, right?

(God, the kid is clever.)

Cassie: Yes, Charlie, that’s exactly what I was thinking.

Charlie: (with just a hint of a whine) So now I have to spend my whole Sunday night thinking about how much I’m going to HATE this art camp you signed me up for…without asking me.

Cassie: (sheepishly) I guess so. But by tomorrow morning, you ought to be through your adjustment period and ready to go…you know, to make the best of it. It’s only for three hours…not the whole day. Some kids go for the whole day. It might be interesting to see what this art teacher has to say…and teach…

Charlie: (he cuts me off) I doubt it. (pause) Mom, you think you’re so clever don’t you?

Cassie: Yes. Sometimes I do.

Charlie, silent and smirking for a time, eventually grew bored with his own thoughts and so, he struck up a brand new conversation about astronomy. We discussed moonrise and sunrise. He then proceeded to ask me if he could stay up a little later tonight to hopefully glimpse some of the meteor shower. I told him I thought it was a marvelous idea.  He and I continued to chat about stars and planets and the value of a good telescope for the rest of our walk.

I’m thinking the adjustment period is off to a good start.

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