It’s summer, which means kids who go to school are at home for something like seventy consecutive days. Not that I’m counting.

Last summer I heard about these things called ‘camps’ which, apparently, are places one can drop off one’s child(ren). Ostensibly to learn something. Or socialize with similarly aged children. But basically to get them out of one’s hair.

If only for a few hours.

But, as with most things, camps require some forethought. Some planning. Like learning about the camps that are available. And signing up for said camps.

I heard fellow Kindergarten moms talk about which camps they’d chosen for their children way back in February. And yet, I did nothing. ‘We’re going to the States for nearly a month,’ I pooh-poohed the matter to myself, ‘there’s hardly any summer left after that.’ If 35 consecutive days constitute ‘hardly any summer’, that is.

So I tried a home-camp of sorts and made up a couple of art projects for the boys. Prep and clean-up time: one and a half hours. Boys-busy-making-art time: thirty minutes.

Totally worth it.

Maybe next summer I’ll sign myself up for a camp.