"No to magic. Do they have rock?"
The oldest and I are planning his summer, looking over camp listings in Piedmont Parent's April mag, remembering what others have told us about previous years, planning short jaunts we want to take ourselves, and leaving lots of free blocks for Just Being.
"Rock? Like music?"
"No, like rocks. You know. In the ground?"
Ah. He wants some stuff for budding geologists. That may be harder to find.
"And I get at least one Sawtooth, right, Mom?"
Sawtooth camp - heaven for any child who names his or her favorite class at school as "art".
This is somewhat self-serving; I get the best art from his time at Sawtooth.
He lies on the floor on his stomach, the camp pages under his elbows, kicking his right foot happily in anticipation, as we contemplate the days after June 8th.