Somebody Must Have Broken Rule Number One

I’ll admit it – yesterday’s post kind of sucked. I definitely phoned it in. Which is a real shame because it was my boyfriend-in-training XFE’s birthday and well, he deserved better.

But, in my defense (and when am I not a bit defensive?), the post sucked because it was written in the midst of fighting. You see, we’d had the painter over again. And rather than adding a second coat to all the walls (as he should have done in the first place), he only put additional paint over the bare spots we’d pointed out. Now, the paint is even MORE uneven than it was after the first application. (In relatedly awesome news: surprise, surprise. We still have no gas).

So what do grown, supposedly in love people do when they feel ripped off and helpless about a situation that neither person did a single thing to create? They turn on each other, of course.

That’s why yesterday’s post sucked. It was born of domestic strife, rather than a love of cured meats.

(Don’t worry. We’ve decided not to break up with each other over it. We still like each other, even if we don’t like our walls. And, we don’t want Petunia to go through a non-married-people-divorce.)

I do, however, have a good suggestion for the next time we get in this kind of pickle.

“Maryland authorities are investigating allegations of a fight club at a sleep-away summer camp run by the Boys and Girls Club of Greater Washington.… Eight camp counselors were fired for their role in having boys between the ages of 10 and 12 participate in “inappropriate fighting activities”

Now we’re cooking with non-gas-generated fire.

I never went to sleep-away summer camp. Or, really, any other camp that I can remember. Wait….there might have been some Vacation Bible School, but does that count as camp? We made crafts (Bible bookmarks were a big one), sang songs (I seem to remembers something related to a Father Abraham having many sons.) We ate sugar cookies and drank Kool Aid. And there was a bus that came around and picked us all up. But I don’t know if that’s really “camp.” I mean, there weren’t any physical activities or sports or anything. Not even an inappropriate fight club.

I don’t even think there were matching t-shirts. (Holy rabies. This photo below came up while I was searching for “Vacation Bible School Fight Clubs.” What kind of VBS brings possums into the mix??)

BUT, if I were going to imagine what sleep-away camp was like, I imagine there are lots and lots of organized fights. How could there not be? You put together a bunch of hormonal pre-teens, take away their TV and other creature comforts (like cigarettes, for example), and force them to partake in chores and group activities while eating cafeteria-style meals three times a day for seven (!) weeks. That to me sounds like a recipe for a rumble.

(It also sounds to me like some work retreats I’ve been on. And I don’t know of any adults who could handle that much forced interaction for that sustained a period.)

Also: I’m a little bit confused about this whole juicebox fight club thing. I remember when I was around that age and I pretty much pummeled my sister every chance I got. And, since she had about 20 pounds on me, I got my butt kicked fairly regularly in return. I also got into my share of scraps with other kids who looked at me the wrong way (I had quite a chip on my shoulder. Constant new kid syndrome).

I guess, what I’m saying is, do kids still do this? Do they still get in fights?

(In a weird coincidence, there apparently used to be a skate and recreation park here in DC called, yep, you guessed it, Fight Club DC. It was shut down due to “political differences” among the partners. Maybe they should have duked it out. Boys and Girls Club-style.)

Rest assured, I do not have the new kid chip on my shoulder anymore so I’ve pretty much hung up my boxing gloves. Which is a really lucky break for our painter and other assorted contractors. Those guys do get me riled up in a way that, I’m sure, would not be considered very Vacation-Bible-School-ish.

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