Archive for the camp Category
Like every other year, I went to Long Beach Island to "Bible Camp" with my family for Mother's Day weekend.
(Read horrible-but-hilarious past Bible Camp stories here).
The struggle with Bible Camp never revolves around the actual Camp itself, which is a well-maintained old hotel with a clean beach and little harbor.
The problem is always the BEHAVIOR of just a few of my family members, who go out of their way to act outlandish in this fairly conservative and relaxed setting. I think that if it weren't for the polite nature of our fellow campers, my brood would have been kicked out long ago.
For those of you not on the American Goulash Twitter or Facebook, here are some of the Top Live-Tweets from the weekend, mostly by my hilarious & fabulous mother, Anyu:
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"Good ting you're unemployed so you could go on vacation today."
Me: "I worked today! I run my own business."
::scoffs:: "Dat's not a REAL job."
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(about three hours into the vacation:)
Me: I've decided that it's OK to tweet from the toilet if you're not actually going to the bathroom. You see, I'm hiding...
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"Look, Stephie! Dey peeled all of dese hardboiled...
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May 11th,2011
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The last night at Camp, I tried to sleep, but I couldn't ignore my mother's sighing and heavy breathing from the next bed over. I would have never noticed the noise if Irina hasn't make such a fuss about it
the night before.
I tossed and turned for a while, counted sheep, and even tried to put a pillow over my head. Nothing worked.
"Anyu, are you okay? Why are you breathing and sighing so deeply?"
"Ehhh...my bra...it's too tight."
"What size are you?"
"36C."
"No way, mom, you're bigger than that. Even I'm a 38B."
"No vay you're a 38! You haf no boobs!"
"Gee, thanks. And '38' has nothing to do with boob-size. It's the circumference of my rib cage."
"Oh....really? Den vhat are dah letters for?"
"That's the cup size. For your boobs."
"Oooooh. Nobody ever told me dat. I just picked von up vhen I was 18 and I've been getting dah same size ever since."
"Didn't Nagymama ever teach you about that stuff?"
"You didn't talk about tings like dis vhen I vas young, Stephie. You veren't supposed to."
"Says who?"
"I dunno. You just veren't supposed to talk about anyting."
My mother eventually "unbuckled" herself, her heavy breathing hastened, and I...
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I handed Anyu some Mother's Day presents after I got her to settle down and
put on some pants. After dealing with
last year's drama, I decided to give my mother a GIANT bottle of Arbor Mist to help her relax during our weekend "vacation" at the LBI Bible Camp. Sure, it's totally against the Camp regulations to bring alcohol on the premises...but if the management tried to sleep next to my mother, they might pour themselves a glass, too.
"Oh, tank you, Stephie," she said, admiring the bottle, "Did you bring dah cups?"
"Yes, I have them," Irina chimed in. She pulled out several wine glasses from her bag. It was actually her idea to "drug" my mother with fruity wine.
Anyu made a face and sniffed them. "Are dese clean?"
Irina rolled her eyes, "Yeeees, Ildie, they're clean."
"Are you sure? You didn't just pull dem off the shelf from dah Dollar Store and put dem in your bag, did you? People probably touched them."
"NO, Ildie, I brought them from my kitchen cabinet."
Anyu thought for a moment, "Your kitchen cabinet is probably dusty. I'm gonna vash dem."
We both rolled our eyes as Anyu washed all of the...
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The moment we arrived to the hotel room at Bible camp this year, my mother threw off her pants and started walking around in her tighty whities.
"Um, Anyu, what are you doing?" I asked, shielding my eyes.
She sighed. "Life is hard."
"Yes, I know. But why aren't you wearing any pants?"
She put her hands on her hips and spoke firmly, "I don't need to wear pants. I'm on vacation."
Although the sight was horrifying, I have to admit, like her motto...so I made them into T-shirts.
View all of my Designs on Zazzle
My mom has no idea how brilliant and hilarious she is. I think I will buy her one for her next "Burstday". (They make a great gift for Father's Day, too! Available in all colors & sizes!)
My cousin's son Attila has what I would call "Green Guilt". Every time he receives any type of food or gift that has packaging, he immediately asks, "Is this recyclable?"On our last family trip to "Bible Camp", my mother threw a plastic bottle into the garbage can in our room.
"Auntie, Auntie!" Attila yelled, pointing at the trash."We need to put this in the recycling bin OUTSIDE!"
"Nope, I do not recycle," said my mother.
"But you have to put it so we don't pollute Mother Earth," he whined.
"Eh, I don't feel like it."
"But why noooooot?" He pleaded with his big blue eyes.
"Because I am lazy," she laughed.
"Okay, then I can go outside and put it in the bin!"
Her expression changed from amusement to horror. "NOOOO!" she screamed. "You can't go recycle, somevon will steal you!"
Don't worry, I fished it out of the garbage can later and took him to recycle it. I'm trying to keep his childhood scars to a minimum.
Photo by Sanja Gjenero
