“Remember guys, seven days from now we will have won over all the boys.”  Those were my words at this morning’s administrative meeting on the front porch of the Main Lodge.  I mean what I say.  Approximately three weeks is the magic number for just about all children at all camps for that final surrender to the fun of the experience. By then, Homesickness for most will be such a distant memory that some kids will deny they ever were afflicted!

Yesterday featured two major Kingswood traditional events.  First, the entire camp descended on the Whale’s Tale water amusement park.  Temperatures were forecast to be in the mid to high 70’s but Mike Wiff asserted that they never got out of the 60’s. Asked if the cooler air affected their enjoyment, several boys looked at me as if I were crazy, which I am to some degree.  They had a blast.  Faces do not belie the truth, so just click on Sara’s photos of July 9 to see for yourselves that the boys were content. Don’t forget to click on any photo to see it enlarged.  All photos are for sale (our Camp Minder account requires this feature) and you are welcome to take advantage of CM’s offer.  It is never too late to contact Sara, who might still be able to cobble together a photo package featuring your son and his camp friends.  Click here

Sara promises to add another album some time today that will feature the reactions on boys’ faces during the annual Egg Drop competition.  This is no normal event, featuring clever collegiate devices crafted with parachutes and other engineered mechanisms to assure a safe landing.  Picture instead cardboard, foam, hollowed out soft material, duct tape and a few prayers to the egg gods that luck will prevail when the Ambassador (Klaus) and his team of sadists, to include the completely insane Mr. Weird, do everything in their power to destroy each contraption without mercy.  The game moves too fast for any cabin group to mourn their egg’s passing for too long. Roadside won the event when their slit Nerf football withstood Weird’s water smash round.  Undaunted, as always, Weird proceeded to drive over the football with the tennis roller and the Ambassador stabbed the poor device with a pitch fork.  No one bothered even to look inside the ball one last time but, instead, pitched in to help clean up the hilariously messy venue.  Ten minutes later I was still chuckling to myself when I fell fast asleep, one exhausted young boy at heart.