The twelve and thirteen year-olds around me will be called Blazers and Warriors instead of 7th and 8th graders. I'll be living in a cabin with 11 other people instead of in an apartment by myself. Waking up at 7:15 will be sleeping in compared by my 6 am alarm these days. The morning commute won't involve a car, but walking across the yard to the Riv flagpole. I'll retire my teacher pants, teacher shirts and teacher necklaces and replace them with a rainbow of Nike shorts, neon tanks and my wooden name tag.
In two and a half weeks we'll have a long list of highs of the day and struggle to come up with a low. We'll lose our Snapchat streaks, close out of Netflix and have no time to scroll through Instagram. Our schedule will be filled with time to jump off the rope swing, fly down the zipline, cook a hobo dinner, eat ice-cream sandwiches on the Trading Post porch, sing songs as we walk the lake road and join the parade of people headed to campfire on Friday nights.
17 days till it's summer camp time.