She Shall Have Music Wherever She Goes

Tomorrow morning we'll be driving TeenTuna to camp. She'll be gone for ten days, making music and friends in the woods of Northern Michigan. What could be better?

This is her second year, so she is already familiar with all the things they never tell you in the orientation packet. We are leaving extra, extra early tomorrow so she can get a prime bunk, which, for the uniformed or ignorantly apathetic in the crowd is NOT the bottom bunk at the back of the cabin which is directly across from the door and OMG when people go in and out of the cabin the light totally shines on you every single time and you can never sleep and I DON'T WANT TO HAVE THAT BUNK AGAIN SO CAN WE LEAVE AT 5?

(Answer: No)

Last summer was TeenTuna's Most Excellent Adventure, and music camp was one of three trips she took within a five-week time period. This summer it is her only outing, which I think makes it that much more exciting. She has spent much of the summer at the office, and while she has been a trooper about the whole thing, it really isn't that much fun for a 13-year old. Heck, much of the time it really isn't that much fun for the mother of a 13-year old, but at least I have a paycheck to soothe the pain.

Even though TeenTuna will spend much of her time rehearsing (which I hate) with the Four Insects of the Apocalypse (mosquitoes, spiders, bees and middle-school boys), I have to admit I'm a little envious of her time. It's an incredible gift to be able to immerse yourself in your passion.

While she's gone I won't have any problems keeping busy. Between work, home, Scout, and projects both inside, outside and upside-down, I won't be bored. My basement alone has enough cleaning projects and memory-filled lonely socks to last a lifetime. And even though I won't miss the TeenTuna's Angel to Devil in 2.5 seconds routine, I'll miss the music of her life that sweeps into mine almost unnoticed like the gentlest of breezes.

I can't wait until she leaves.
I can't wait until she comes back.
Same song. Second verse.

Happy Trails, kiddo. Sing loud.