My parents laughed even though I didn’t say anything funny.
“No,” said my dad. “This summer, we’re sending you to sleepaway camp.”
What?! Noooooooooooo!
Back in ancient times when dinosaurs roamed the earth, both of my parents went to sleepaway camp. They’re always talking about how much they loved going to camp during the summer.
Mom: Remember making s’mores around the campfire, honey?
Dad: And hiking in the woods!
Mom: And swimming! And playing sports!
Dad: The great outdoors!
Mom: And making friendships that last a lifetime!
Dad: And learning survival skills. Such great memories!
Mom: And these days they probably have pickleball!
“Summer camp was where we first met and fell in love,” said my dad. “Remember, dear?”
“Of course I do!”
Then they started smooching and getting all lovey-dovey. Gross. Smooching should be illegal.
“I don’t want to go to sleepaway camp,” I insisted.
“Well,” my dad said, “what do you want to do over summer vacation?”
“I want to play video games and watch TV,” I replied.
“You do that every day, A.J.,” said my mom. “You spend way too much time staring at screens as it is. You need to be outside, in the fresh air.”
“We could bring the TV outside,” I said hopefully.
“No!” shouted both my parents.
“How about sending me to Antarctica for the summer?” I asked. “I’ll go live with the penguins. That would be outside.”
“We’re not sending you to Antarctica,” my dad said firmly.
“It’s just a week, sweetie,” said my mom. “You’ll have fun!”
“A week is seven days!” I protested.* “I want to stay home and be with my friends.”
“We already talked with your friends’ parents,” my mom told me. “Michael is going to sleepaway camp. So is Ryan. Neil will be there too. All your friends will be there.”
I didn’t care who’s gonna be there. This was sure to be the worst summer in the history of summers.
On Sunday, we drove a million hundred miles until there weren’t any houses or stores on the side of the road anymore. This dumb sleepaway camp was in the middle of nowhere.
Or maybe it was in the edge of nowhere. How can nowhere have a middle? My point is, there was nothing around. If a spaceship landed in the road and some aliens kidnapped us, nobody would know about it.
“I gotta pee,” I told my parents.
“Is it an emergency, A.J.?” asked my mom. “We’ll be at the camp any minute.”
Man, they should really put toilets in cars. Toilets should be like seatbelts.
Finally, we came to a sign at the side of the road—CAMP AHDOANWANNA. We had to drive a long way on a dusty dirt road through the woods until we reached the camp.
You know who really loves going to sleepaway camp? Mosquitoes! As soon as I got out of the car, I was attacked by a swarm of them. They were all over the place.
That was weird. Mosquitoes can go anywhere they want. Why do they all go to sleepaway camp?
A golf cart came zipping down the dirt road and stopped in front of us. Some old guy with a beard hopped out. His T-shirt said “Camp Ahdoanwanna” on it.
“Welcome!” he said, pumping my hand, “I’m Uncle Ahdoanwanna, the director of Camp Ahdoanwanna! Are you ready to have fun, fun, fun?”
“No, no, no,” I replied.
“Ha-ha-ha!” he laughed. “Kids always say that. But I promise you, six days from now, you’ll be crying your eyes out because you won’t want to go home.”
