Hitting the bottle

My kids just started summer camp. I send them to an old-school, you’re-outside-all-day, you-learn-how-to-shoot-BB-guns kind of camp. They love every second of it. I love every second of it. The only problem is I get totally stressed out when it’s super duper hot outside.

I mean, sometimes it gets up into the high 90s. And all I can think about is my poor kids out there, the sun beating down on them, so dehydrated they’re ready to pass out.

So what do I do? I buy them each one of these:

 

To provide some sense of scale, I have placed the ginormous water bottle next to the real-life Captain America.

To provide some sense of scale, I have placed the ginormous water bottle next to the real-life Captain America.

 

Now I don’t know how many ounces this baby holds, but it’s at least the recommended daily requirement for a 300-lb. grown man.

But I don’t care. I fill it up to the tip top and send my kids on their way. They’re not getting dehydrated on MY watch. Except it’s literally too heavy for one of them to carry. So I pour half the water out. Which kind of defeats the purpose of an x-large water bottle, but what are you gonna do. My kid says it’s better and lugs it, huffing and puffing, to the car and off we go.

Fast forward to that afternoon. My kid comes home and tells me two things:

1. His counselor had to carry the water bottle around all day because it was too heavy for him.

2. His counselor has requested that I send him in with a smaller water bottle.

I’m officially the first parent to be considered loony by the counselors during Camp ’13.

Way to be, Meredith. Way to be.

 

 

 

 

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