Lessons learned?
1. When busted, Mr. Z will sell me out in a fucking heartbeat and lie about not knowing what a "peter" is to save his skinny ass.
B. Camp is a fuck of a lot wimpier nowadays than when I was a kid. Shit, in my day you'd be hard-pressed to find a camp song that DIDN'T mention a dick in it.
3. I guess I should postpone my plans to teach the "Diarrhea Song" to Miss O this weekend.
3 comments:
Your kid comes home after a day at camp? What ever happened to going away to camp?
With notes going home to his daddy, I'd say you're sending him to daycare and the poor bastard doesn't realize it.
By the way, being a handwriting expert, I can tell you there is something troubling about the person that wrote that note. I suspect deviant behavior.
That, or he has shit on his fingers from cleaning his dog's hairy ass.
I hear you, Jasper. My parents shipped me off to northern Minnesota for four weeks when I was 10. These kids today...
And by the way, the camp we send him to is "Camp Shit-caked Hairy Dogass," so you're right on the money.
I'm a lurker, or whatever, but oh my god, you are seriously the funniest person ever. I die laughing every time I read your blog.
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