First of all, what is wrong with us? Look at our pants! Notice the girl second from the left (whose name I miraculously remember almost 30 years later was Bonnie) and her cool little 'Jesus with children on his lap' viewfinder hanging proudly from her belt loop... It's a good thing her pants are almost up to her armpits or she'd never be able to view Jesus without taking the viewfinder off the beltloop. That Bonnie was a smart one.
This is roughly 1979... summer before 5th grade. I'm the bombshell on the right of the counselor, third from the right. Please do notice the awesome green see-through vinyl visor in my left hand.
What I remember most about this year at summer camp is that I was worried about how I was going to take care of my hair all by myself so I asked my mom to put it into pigtails before we went. Each morning, I would get up and take out one side of those piggy pig-pig tails and brush it out, then put the ponytail holder right back in, lickety split, before I took the other side of the pigtails out to brush and then re-restrain it. That way, my part would never get messed up or crooked. (I still have crooked part issues today, if you must know. I love to wear my hair in two braids but hardly ever do because it takes me so ding-dang long to get my part straight.)
But here's the real neat-o part of the story... because I was so worried about messing up my part, I went the whole week without showering. Because that would have required taking out BOTH pigtails at once. And then I'd have been doomed. Because apparently it was VERY important to me to wear pigtails the whole blessed week. This picture was taken the very last day of camp, by our parents who had driven four hours to pick us up and bring our stinky selves home. Obviously, I felt the freedom to let my pigtails out because I was headed home to the comfort of my own bed and my mommy who could help me get my part straight.
Of course, now, as I was typing, I just realized that I could very easily have taken out one side of the pigtails in the shower and washed it, then put the ponytail holder back in before I took out the other side to wash it. Much like my styling routine, I could have safely maintained the sanctity of my perfect part and had clean hair. There's a certain amount of wisdom that comes with being 39 that makes life so much easier, wouldn't you agree? From now on, whenever I'm determined to wear pigtails for a whole week, I'm going to employ the 'only wash half your head at a time whilst leaving the other half safely secured in it's perfectly straight-parted ponytail' technique.
But I was only ten. So of course, I couldn't have thought of that genius plan then... I was too busy coordinating my fashion wardrobe and pretending I didn't still play with Barbies.
Now, before we all go on to our Fridays, let's take a moment to wave to cutie-pie little Corey there on the other side of the counselor, third from the left. Isn't she just the skinniest miniest little sweetie? I'm so blessed to still be able to count her my best friend after all these years. She's been by my side both literally and figuratively for almost 35 years. Amazing. Even when I don't shower for a week.
Happy Friday, friends!