Thursday, May 8, 2008

LIFE LESSONS: DON'T CALL PEOPLE "FAT"

Over the course of my life, I've said many things that have embarrassed me, and most likely those around me as well. For example, when I was three and was introduced to a friend of my parents', instead of saying "hello," I said, "Wow! You have ENORMOUS ears!" Yes, his ears were a bit larger than average, but I probably didn't need to point that out to him. My parents were mortified (as they often are when I speak, I'm afraid).

Well, one such occasion of self-humiliation sticks out in my mind more than most (*names have been changed to protect the innocent). Keep in mind as you read this story, that I have nothing against people who are heavy. My own beloved hubby has some meat on his bones, and I love that he's got something extra to grab onto.

I went to a wonderful summer camp as a child. I was a camper there starting at age 11, I worked there in the kitchen and as a counselor as a teen and into my early 20's. I LOVE Camp Sankanac, and would like to send my own children there when they are old enough. One of the things I love about this camp is that it is not coed. For four weeks of the summer, it is all girls. That's right, no sneaking out of the cabin in the middle of the night for a make-out session with a cute boy, just hairy-legged females sleeping well and having fun.

Camp Sankanac is very family-friendly. Entire families would work there year-round or over the summer months. One particular summer I was working in the kitchen, and one of the families that worked there had a very cute (in my opinion) teenaged son named *Tim. He was working maintenance while his sister attended camp and his parents did ... well, something around camp. I wasn't sure what.

One day, I was talking with my friend *Jane. She was a counselor at camp that year. I vividly remember us sitting by the pond, chatting about this or that, when *Tim came walking over. I started acting all goofy and giggly, and being generally stupid. *Jane, in an attempt to rescue me from looking like an idiot, said to *Tim, "I was talking with *Andrea this morning."

I said, "Who's *Andrea? That big, ol', fat woman that works in the Craft Loft?" Yes, those were my exact words. I can remember them as if I uttered them five minutes ago. I'm not proud of them. And here were *Tim's exact words:

"That's my mother."

1 comment:

mrsneyman said...

that would totally happen to me. thank god we grow up...some. :) i would like to know more about camp though. we want our kids to get into it.