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| The WP, in her third summer at the Clinton Presidential Center's Culinary Camp. She visited a sustainable farm, learned how to create dishes in a food truck, and rolled sushi. Won't someone please end her suffering? |
So far, the Warrior Princess has had an enviably cool summer, filled with a variety of learning opportunities and experiences. She has baked cupcakes alongside accomplished pastry chefs, completed a 5K, learned to write computer code, visited water parks, participated in a food truck challenge and a creative writing camp, and become a certified babysitter. So naturally, she's totally pissed off.
We were backing out of our driveway on our way to her pediatrician for her annual physical before a ridiculously fun week away at camp when she broached the subject.
"Mom," she began, "there's something I've been meaning to tell you."
She had my attention. "Sure, sweetie. Shoot."
She paused briefly, gathering her thoughts. And then, wrinkling her little nose: "I've had, like, all these activities this summer." The word "activities" carried a whiff of disdain.
Calmly, I applied the brake and leaned in, adopting the open, nonthreatening body language I learned in my former life as a counselor.
"Tell me more about that," I said in my best encouraging tone. "Tell me how this summer full of enriching activities has been a hardship for you."
Crickets.
"It's okay," I continued, smiling empathetically. "I'm here to listen. The privilege of rich and varied summer opportunity is indeed a heavy burden. Please, share with me the details of your suffering."
The look that crossed her face was priceless. Like, okay, you got me.
I kissed her on the side of the head and drove her to the doctor. "In fairness to you," I conceded, "I get what you mean. Next week you don't have anything scheduled. Sleep as late as you want. Swim all day. Do what you want, when you want." She was happy about having some time for...whatever. And I get it.
It's just the reality of two working parents. Plus, left to her own devices, she'd spend her summer vacation plopped down in front of a video game, only showering when forced.
She is just like me at that age. Super-angsty, for no discernible reason. Hormones. Ugh. Bless her heart.
No. Bless MY heart. I am screwed.
