Rabbis Flocking to See Tyler Perry’s A Madea Christmas then Eating Mass Quantities of Chinese Food Christmas Day

December 25, 2013, Marlboro, NJ – Hundreds of local rabbis, cantors, and esteemed members of the Judaic community have sold out every showing of Tyler Perry’s A Madea Christmas as well as every 6pm to 8pm reservation in Chinese restaurants all across the New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, and Boynton Beach areas.  While 99.7% of Americans celebrate the most festive and anticipated holiday of the year with family and friends, Jewish clergymen use Christmas Day as a day to enjoy guilty pleasures such as Tyler Perry’s movies as well as Chinese culinary delights like shrimp fried rice and moo shoo pork without the fear of being judged by non-Jews in their communities.

Rabbi Jakob Fishman of Congregation Beth El in Lakewood, NJ circles Christmas Day the second he opens his new “Hottest Girls of Hooters” calendar every year.  To him, it not only signifies a day where billions of people worldwide celebrate the birthday of Jesus Christ, the Savior but more importantly, it’s a day when he and his Rabbinical college buddies can get together, let their payis down, and just enjoy some fine cinema and good old Chinese food while enjoying each other’s company.   “We’ve been doing this for the past fifteen or twenty years,” explained Fishman.  “We try to see a Tyler Perry film since his characters are so relatable to us on just so many levels, but this year a bunch of my friends had to see Madea’s Witness Protection at the dollar theater instead since most of Madea Christmas tickets were sold out months in advance.  Still a great movie but seen it a dozen times.”

Beginning in 1992 with the straight-to-video release of Madea’s Family Reunion, Rabbis have found a common bond with the cross-dressing Perry character, a tough woman known to stand up for what’s right whether it’s her business or not.  More often than not it seems as Madea (real name Mabel Simmons) gets mixed up in some wacky hijinks that only she can talk herself out of with great wisdom and well-meaning intention.  Tenafly, NJ Rabbi Isaac Solomon explains the obvious attraction.  “It’s like Mr. Perry created this character just for us.  I’m pretty sure we’re his target demographic.  I can’t tell you how many times I involve myself in someone’s affairs that I have no business being a part of.  Just like Madea!!!  For example, a couple months ago I stuck my nose into a situation where a man was cheating on his wife with several members of the congregation who were very generous benefactors toward the temple.  I turned to G-d for guidance but after my prayers weren’t answered, I remembered a rather poignant quote from Madea Goes To Jail.  She said, wait…is it he or she?  Anyway, Madea said ‘Well when you gettin' got and somebody done got you and you go get them, when you get em', everybody's gon' get got.’  From then on, everything made sense.  I was able to help the husband cut down from four to three girlfriends while still getting the maximum allowable donations allowed under New Jersey tax law from the remaining three ladies.  Thanks, Madea!”

After enjoying an afternoon of hysterical laughter courtesy of Tyler Perry, most rabbis race to the closest Chinese restaurant to fill up on a year’s worth of pork and shrimp delicacies.   According to Kashrut, the set of Jewish dietary laws, kosher-keeping Jews are prohibited from the consumption of unclean animals such as shellfish and swine.  This law, which dates back through thousands of years of rich Jewish history, is tossed aside like a week-old challah on Christmas Day each and every year.
Owner of Hunan D-Lite in Boynton Beach, FL, Jian “Jerry” Li usually ups his pork and shellfish order from Sysco 500-600% in order to satisfy the carnal cravings of South Florida’s ravenous rabbis.  “I don’t see nobody all year long.  Then a few years ago, all these men in suits with big beards come into my restaurant and order every pork dish on the menu.  It look like some kind of Santa Claus party.  I run out of pork, shrimp and lobster by 5:30.  They kvetch and kvetch so now I order enough to make everyone happy.  I pick up some of their language, too,” Li explained.

 “The best part of the whole day is when people tell their friends that they see a bunch of us rabbis at the Tyler Perry movie or eating pork fried rice at the neighborhood Chinese place.  Their friends think they’re meshuggina (crazy)!  Who would believe such a thing?  Oy Vey!!” exclaimed Rabbi Rebecca Morgenstern of the Temple at Woodmere.

National Weather Service: Mysterious Sustained Wind Gust at 8:07 Determined to be Collective Sigh of Relief as Kids Return to School

Randolph, NJ (Sept 9) – On a gorgeous autumn-like morning, a powerful 65-mile per hour wind that blew through Randolph Township for nearly fifteen minutes was determined by the National Weather Service to be a collective sigh of relief from hundreds of area parents as children were boarding the bus for their first day of school.  No serious damage has been reported but several parents were out of breath and giddy with reclaimed freedom while others were already visibly drunk by 9:30 am.

As parents of kindergarten students cried at the sight of their precious little babies boarding the bus for the first of thousands of life-sapping rides to school, veteran bus stop parents hugged and sobbed with tears of joy anticipating seven hours and fourteen minutes of uninterrupted time to read, shop, eat, and most importantly, breathe without their little pains in the ass bugging the ever-loving shit out of them every three fuckin’ seconds. 

With the buses barely out of sight, mothers instantly looked ten years younger as wrinkles disappeared, breasts perked up, and stomachs flattened.  For stay-at-home dads, gray, thinning hair was almost non-existent replaced by thick, lustrous locks for at least the next seven or so hours.  Several local nail salons were even importing dozens of new workers in order to accommodate the frenzy of long-awaited manicure appointments delayed an extra week by the Jewish New Year.

For most mothers, killing off the three weeks, five days and eleven hours that separate the end of camp and the beginning of the school year can seem like an unbelievably arduous uphill battle.  “How many damn times do I have to take my kids to see this stupid Smurf 2 movie.  I know, I know…Gargamel hates these little blue pieces of shit.  I got it the first ten times!” exclaimed Jon Goldstein, parent of a first and third grader who took his kids to a movie four counties away to kill some extra time.

Lori Burns, mother of two elementary school students, had a slightly different approach.  “I like to get into my workout clothes, take the kids with me to the gym and drop them off at the complementary babysitting room.  I’ll lift a weight or two then tell the guy at the front that I forgot my water or Lulu headband in the car then sneak off with some of my friends for a few hours of ‘me’ time at the movies, shopping at the mall, and some lunch. The amount of walking I do is the same as if I’m on the treadmill at the gym for an hour so technically I’m working out.”

Another way several area mothers were able to “bridge this excruciatingly excessive three-plus week gap” was to take long, time-zone traversing trips to the west coast.   “I went out to California for two weeks to ‘see my family’,” said long-time resident, Mary O’Donnell as she gave the air quotes sign, “but the main reason was that by coming back east I gained three extra hours of time before the kids went back to school.  I know I lost time on the way out but I gave them a few teaspoons of adult-strength Benadryl on the plane so they slept the entire flight.  I read a good four hours uninterrupted and did an hour and a half of in-your-seat pilates.“

Parent of fifth grade twin girls, Jen Winston, said Monday September 9^th has been circled on her calendar since June 23rd, the last day of the spring semester.  “I love my girls more than anything in the world, but I love them just a tiny drop more when they’re in school and not glomming all over me asking me to take them places,” she explained as she and friend Erin Murphy enjoyed a Back to School celebratory 6 ounce double cookies and cream frozen yogurt from local hangout Yo-Yo Ma a few towns over.

With the children back at school, area parents will now focus on neglecting long-overdue projects and activities such as cleaning out the hall closet, documenting and scrapbooking Grandma’s 80^th birthday extravaganza, having sex with his/her spouse, organizing last year’s school artwork, getting in better shape, and painting the downstairs bathroom. 

The Farmers’ Almanac is predicting a similar weather pattern next year on September 6^th.   Area meteorologists warn residents to stay inside and tie down any loose deck furniture and valuables. 

Area Mothers Get Their, um, Kids’ Teachers for Upcoming School Year

Randolph, NJ (Aug 25) – For the past 20 years, the Wednesday before Labor Day has been anticipated as much as any day of the calendar year.  It has become the unofficial beginning to the school year as local mothers camp out at their mailboxes awaiting the letter from the school district to inform them who they, I mean their kids, will have for the new school year. 

The frenzy that ensues is a maddening mix of hysteria and joy all depending on which teacher’s name is written on that 8x11 piece of paper.   Local telecommunications giants AT&T and Verizon add extra cell phone bandwith to ensure the estimated 10.7 million calls and text messages will be sent and received between approximately 400 mothers over the days following the mailing.  One mother of two students, Jan Woodel, even installs an additional landline just in case the cell grids get overloaded.  “I can’t take the chance that I won’t be able to get in touch with everyone.  With two kids, I feel like it’s double the work to figure out exactly who’s in each class!”

This annual ritual runs a gamut of emotions, ranging from the elation of their children returning to school after two or sometimes even three grueling weeks at home since the end of camp to the impending doom of having to do homework, book reports, and possibly shoebox dioramas.  Depending on the teacher mothers get for the year, it could be a school year they wish would never begin.  Area mother, Allyson Stein (kids Jake, 5^th grade, Dani, 2^nd grade) is already bracing for a laborious school year.  “We have O’Malley for 5^th and I heard she’s a real tough disciplinarian but thankfully doesn’t assign weekend homework.  For 2^nd, Dani and I have Mrs. Finkelstein who I think used to be Miss Pasquariello who Jake and I didn’t have when he was in 2^nd.  I heard she loads the work on in the beginning of the year but since she’s now a “Finkelstein” I’m assuming she may be busy with the Jewish holidays at her in-laws this year.  I’m praying that’s the case.”

As mothers are burdened with the pressures of homework, manicure appointments and gym training sessions are canceled in favor of reviewing elementary math and social studies while summer reading erotica is eschewed in favor of reading up on popular “Wacky School” stories like “Miss LeShore is a Whore” and “Mr. Fife Beats his Wife”.    Many moms are complaining privately among each other about the amount of homework they get assigned every night.  Stein shares the sentiments of her entire social circle.  “Last year, it seemed that bitch, (4^th grade teacher Jill) McMahon, was assigning essays just to keep us moms busy if there was nothing else to do.  And she never once gave me, er, Jake, higher than a B+ on any report or diorama.  I did a diorama with about 37 tips I got on Pinterest and still only got a B.  I was pissed.  Not sure Jake knew about the assignment, though.”

After accumulating lists of all the students’ teacher assignments from Mrs. Woodel, Mrs. Stein distributes the unofficial ledger to the community days before the school begins in an effort to aid the formation of parent study teams and advocate groups to ensure they won’t be assigned too much work and face unreasonable deadlines. 

When asked about his feelings about the start of the school year, Mrs. Stein’s husband, Jon, responded, “What grade are the kids in again?”

Goldbergs Already Packed for Summer of 2014

Livingston, NJ (Aug 22) – Only a short few hours after picking up their camp trunks from local merchant Kim’s Kountry Kleaners, the Goldbergs, Jake, 12, and Jenna, 10, are all packed up and ready for their 2014 summer experience.   The trunks were professionally steam-cleaned then dry-cleaned to ensure that any residue from the Camp Huron Lake storage shed and camp laundry soap was permanently expunged.   With the beautifully monogrammed bags back in her possession, Lara Goldberg feverishly and maniacally packed her kids with only 43 short weeks to spare. 

While most normal mothers accumulate camp items throughout the year and finish things off with a trip to the Camp Depot, Goldberg is not one to wait until the last second.  In fact, she is already packing up for the next summer just a few hours after returning home from visiting day.  “I like to get a head start on packing up the kids so I’m not waiting til the very last second.  What I usually do is start researching what the hottest fashion trends are going to be for the spring season and start from there.  Sometimes things work out great like the summer of 2012 where Jake had a ton of funky Flow Society lacrosse shorts but last year I guessed wrong and I packed him Reebok tees and hoodies when all the other kids were wearing Under Armor.  Not a great summer for him,” lamented Mrs. Goldberg.  “My prediction is that next summer girls’ shorts will be shorter and tops will be longer so it looks like they’re not wearing anything underneath giving a sexy, alluring look.  I think that’s appropriate for the 11-13 female bat mitzvah-attending demographic.”

After most parents pick up their children from the bus upon returning from camp, a trip to a child’s favorite restaurant, a family party, or even the “Lice Lady” is not out of the norm.  But the Goldbergs immediately whisk their children off to Delicate Flowers in Livingston, NJ to order clothing before the spring rush arrives.  “I make sure my appointment is the day the kids come home.  Prior to that though, I consult with my kids’ pediatrician to try to extrapolate their growth rates to come up with what their sizes will be in 10 months.  Jake is close to hitting puberty so it’s going to be a real crap shoot this year.  Jenna told me she ate non-organic yogurt at a friend’s house last spring so I’m expecting major changes any day now.  I’ll have to stock up on sports bras and bandeaus.” 

With her busy schedule Goldberg has very little time to spare once the school year begins.  A typical day includes supervising live-in nanny, Hillaria, feeding and dressing the kids followed by a three-hour gym session with Rob, her personal trainer.  If time permits, she’ll grab a quick lunch with friends at Yo-Yo-Yo-Yo-Yo-Yo-Yogurt before a quick nap and possible reading of the newest sex-infused novel.  As Hillaria gets the kids from the bus stop, Goldberg readies the kitchen table for Jake’s Johns Hopkins University Center for Talented Youth tutor then calls the carpool mothers to ensure her kids will be picked up on time for karate, soccer, art, music, fall baseball, and lacrosse.  After relaxing when the kids are out, she has to make sure Hillaria makes dinner before Hillaria puts the kids to bed.  “It’s exhausting.  There just aren’t enough hours in the day to get the camp stuff done.  It takes a village.”

Once the trunks are packed up and ready to go, they get placed outside to await pick up in mid-June followed by a daily call to the shipping company to see if they have a estimated hour window when they’ll be arriving to take the bags so Goldberg clears her calendar well in advance.  Several shipping companies have already broken their contract with Camp Huron Lake due to the constant harassment by Goldberg.  Last year’s shipping company, Schleppers, issued the following statement concerning their reason for breaking their fairly lucrative contract: “That’s one bat shit crazy bitch!”

After Five Summers, Finkelstein Still Can’t Get to Second Base

Lake Huron, Pa (Aug 10) – He’s been going to a co-ed camp for the past five years, but 17 year-old Camp Huron Lake CIT Jake Finkelstein has yet to get to second with any of the female campers.  Finkelstein, a straight A student at Roslyn High School, has the exact characteristics he believes make him second-base material for the discriminating lady campers. 

Everything was in place this year for Jake to finally achieve his years long goal of getting to second.  His grades were excellent.  He made the Junior Varsity Swim Team as well as the Debate Team, and his face has never looked better after nine months of remarkable skin-clearing results from ProActiv.   He was, as several of his bunkmates noted, the perfect guy to let get to second base. 

Finkelstein even took to great lengths in order to ensure his hands and cuticles were in tip-top shape.  His mother, Jenna, 45, brought him to her manicurist for several weeks prior to the first day of camp to make sure his hands and nails were nice and soft so as not to scratch or mar any skin on his way to second base.  His mother warned him that a stray cuticle or hang nail could be the difference between only getting to first versus going all the way to second. 

“Listen, I didn’t expect to get second when I was 13 or 14, but the last three summers have been really tough for me,” a dejected Finkelstein explained.  “There have been so many opportunities…out of camp trips, campfires, socials, I can’t even name them all.  I figured I’d get second almost by accident with this many chances.”

Getting to second by Finkelstein’s age is fairly commonplace in today’s hormone-crazy teen crowd.  Several of Finkelstein’s bunkmates claim to have gotten second off of girls from home but none of these accounts have ever been verified.  Longtime bunkmate Jake Steinway claims to have gotten to second a bunch of times but never to third.  “I live in the city so I pretty much get to second every time I step on the subway.  Never under the shirt though.  I had a girlfriend this year and I almost got to second but she said it was ‘that time of the month’.  I was really confused.  What the hell does that even mean?” confessed a perplexed Steinway, 17. 

Most of the boys in Finkelstein’s group have offered up advice to help break this unenviable streak.  “Tell her you’ve been certified/pre-approved to get to second”, “Challenge her to wrestle”, and “Aim lower” are among the best advice he’s received so far. 

When several female CIT’s were asked about Finkelstein’s chances of finally getting to second were, most replied with the same answer, “Finkelstein came back to camp this summer?  I don’t remember seeing him.”

Boys Become Best Friends For Life After 7 Weeks at Camp; No Idea What Each Other’s Real Names Are

Lake Huron, PA (Aug 10) – With the exception of a single night Goldie slept in the infirmary, he and best friend, Winey, 10, have been absolutely inseparable the entire summer.   Whether it is on the soccer field, in the dining room, or in the pool, the two first-year campers have barely left each other’s side yet neither boy has any clue whatsoever what the other’s real name is. 

The Bunk D duo have absolutely no idea what any of the boys in their bunk are named as a matter of fact.  The rest of their bunkmates include Bobble Head, Greenie, Blue, Rudy, Wolfie, Dee-Vine, Moose, Archie, Big Guy, Champ, and Diablo.  While most nicknames given by bunk counselors are variations of their semetic last names, some are based on hair color, favorite toy or activity, or clothing choice on the first day of camp.   In very rare circumstances, some boys will get completely random nicknames when they don’t have a single defining quality or name trait that stands out.

Winey and Goldie met only minutes after getting off the bus at camp and instantly formed what is now a life-long bond.  Although they introduced themselves to one another, clearly, like most of the male population, neither bothered to listen to the other’s reply.  Unfortunately, it may be too late to ask each other their names.  “If I ask Winey what his real name is he may not think I think of him as my best friend,” contemplated Goldie, 10, “I’m pretty sure his name may be Jake or Jacob.  I guess I’ll wait until the division list is sent home on the last day of camp to find out.”   

Winey, who like Goldie, hails from the NY/NJ area, also shares his best friend’s angst.  “I know at the end of the year we get a list of kids in our group.  Unfortunately, there’s a Goldstein, two Goldbergs, a Goldenberg, and a plain old Gold in this division.  There’s no way in hell he’ll figure out who I am because there’s a Weinstein, Weinberg, Weinstock and a Weiner.   I wish my last name was Smith or Johnson so at least my name could have been a little original at camp,” lamented Winey knowing it will probably be 45 more weeks before he and Goldie would see each other again.  “I just can’t take the risk of having my mom call the wrong Goldie since two of the other kids are real douche bags.  Imagine a sleep over with them???”

Bunk D counselor Ryan Aaronson was absolutely no help to the boys or their families either.  On Visiting Day, Aaronson was sure to give generic, stock answers to any questions asked by his campers’ parents.  The third-year counselor’s replies of “He’s a great kid”, “He gets along well with the others” and “Your son is one of my favorites” were received by parents with warm, relieved smiles.  Aaronson admitted to losing the bunk roster on the second day of camp and resorted to making up names for two of the boys whose name he couldn’t remember.  “I had a tough time the first few days remembering which kid I was calling “Big Guy” and which was “Champ”.  Once the other kids started calling them the names, it kinda stuck,” explained Aaronson.

Winey is already counting the days down to the summer of 2014.  “I can’t wait to go back to camp.  I just hope when we get our bunk requests, I put down the right Goldie, not the asshole who I think stole my Rainbow Loom bracelet.”

Coming Home from Sleep Away, Iraq Similar Says Mothers of Campers

Livingston, NJ (Aug 13) – Like mothers who send their children off to war for a year or two, thousands of area residents have breathed a sigh of relief as their children have arrived home safely from sleep away camp.  They had waited with anticipation for three and sometimes even four worry-free weeks since visiting day for their offspring to get home and only now can local mothers stop talking about how difficult the last few weeks have been without their “babies”.

Camp Huron Lake, home to over 400 campers, received hundreds upon hundreds of emails, letters and phone calls over the past month from mothers concerning life and death issues such as “wearing enough sunscreen”, “bathing properly”, “running low on tampons” and “keeping on their orthodontic headgear through the night”.  US Soldiers in Iraq can receive an unlimited number of packages when deployed yet campers at many camps including Camp Huron Lake can only receive two the entire summer.  Additionally, the Armed Forces do not have a restriction on what can be sent up in said packages.  Soldiers, many who work for 18 to 24 hour shifts in 110 degree heat while wearing several layers of protective gear, may also get any type of food which is strictly forbidden by nearly all sleep away camps.  

“It’s unfair that I can’t send Jake up his favorite things to eat the entire summer.  He’s going nearly three weeks since we saw him without any type of candy cake or Cupcakes by Melissa.  How do we expect our kids to survive?  The soldiers can eat candy all day long, provided that they’re not being shot at by Iraqi insurgents.” lamented Jen Goldstein, Jake’s mother, 43.  “I’ve been worrying about my boy all summer long.  I even thought about it a few times when my husband and I were touring Western Europe with a few other couples.  It’s not easy.”

Sleep away camp can be a grueling ordeal for many children.   A typical day is not unlike being in Iraq or Afghanistan according to many parents.   Being awoken by the daily revile bugle can be very frightening in camp, probably similar to exploding mortar and gunfire disrupting a fourteen hour power nap in preparation of a two day, no sleep recon mission according to a group of NJ psychologists.  

Campers also need to make crucial eating decisions at three meals a day.  “Should I have a salad, sandwich, or tofu burger for lunch today?  Tough decision.  Mmm, and what for desert?” questioned Junior Girl camper Hanna Stern, 11.  “Where’s my mother when I need her?”  Like this Junior Girl camper, Iraq veteran Shane McMannus, 27, faced equally tough decisions on a daily basis.  “Should I eat these government rations or starve today?  But I can see how stressful the decision making process can be for an over-privileged camper.  I would never want to be in her shoes.”  

While many who have not experienced life in summer camp, days can seem like a never-ending trek of kickball, bracelet making, dancing, swimming, tennis, trapeze swinging, cookie baking and eating.  It’s not a lifestyle for everyone says mother Julie Steinberg, mother of Jake Steinberg, 10, who very nearly was run over by the camp bus as she sprinted to see her son.  “He’s out there on the front lines all day long, playing, laughing...  It’s gotta be exhausting to have to do this for seven straight weeks with your friends.  I’m not sure if it’s harder on him or me,” commented Julie, sitting at her pool enjoying her third pina colada of the day while her nanny entertained six-year old twins Jacob and Jakey. "I hate the thought of him not having enough rubber bands for his Rainbow Loom!"

Area Woman Can’t Locate Husband’s Penis Entire Summer, Locates Daughter’s Left Pinky Toe in Camp Picture

Great Neck, NY (Aug 10) -  While she can find her daughter’s finger or toe sticking into any picture on the Camp Huron Lake website, local mother Linda Cohen-Freidberg, 41, oddly has been unable find her husband Jeff’s penis for the past seven weeks.   Jeff, a 43 year-old stockbroker, has gone nearly two months without his partner of 15 years touching his average-sized penis.

Linda, a stay at home mother, has an uncanny eye for finding her daughter, Sydney, in any picture.  “She’s like Sherlock Holmes the way she inspects each shot.  If there are a few hundred pictures uploaded on any given day, she can spend up to ten hours scrutinizing them all.  A few weeks ago she pointed out what she thought was a footprint from Syd’s rain boots on the baseball field and “Liked” it on Facebook.  You think Syd is the only 11 year-old at camp with $100 Hunter boots?” lamented Jeff.

While the camp picture phenomenon has garnered press in blogs and newspapers around the country, few mothers have eyes that can match those of Cohen-Friedberg.  Her seemingly non-descript brown peepers have the ability to scope out backgrounds up to two and a half miles yet, at night in bed, can’t seem to be able to reach over to find where Jeff’s penis is.   “It’s very, very dark in our room at night and my eyes are overly strained from looking through all the photos.  Today there was a pic with about 300 kids in it so my eyes are really tired,” explained the woman with near x-ray vision.

Jeff’s penis, which has been in the same exact place on his body for all 43 years of his life, doesn’t seem likely to be touched any time soon.  Following the end of the summer, Camp Huron Lake’s photography staff posts thousands of pictures that did not make the initial cut for the camp website.  “I’m hoping by Columbus Day or maybe Black Friday she’ll finally give my penis the attention it deserves,” said a hopeful yet defeated Jeff.  

Week 7 and Sand Still in Damn Bed

“How the hell do I get rid of this?” laments Junior Boy.

Huron, PA (Aug 8) – He’s having the greatest summer he’s ever had.  Letters home to his parents have been plentiful scoring his experience a 9 out of 10.  But there’s one thing that’s keeping Camp Huron Lake Junior camper Jake Helfman’s summer from being perfect:  There’s always sand in his bed. 

Unfortunately, Jake,10, isn’t alone.  Sand in My Bed has been reported as far south as Georgia and up north to Maine.  Campers across our great country have been suffering from Sand in My Bed for decades.  Sand, a naturally occurring granular material composed of finely divided rock and mineral particles, has been a dilemma that owners and directors have dealt with since the advent of sleep away camp. 

Like many camps in the northeast, Camp Huron Lake picks up campers’ trunks one to two weeks prior to the start of the summer season.  This ensures that when the children arrive, beds are already made, clothing is put away and the kids can start having fun the second they get off the bus.   This summer, Jake’s mother, Allyson, packed him brand new Yankees sheets from Pottery Barn, a purchase his father, Jon, called “a waste of money” since last year’s sheets were in perfect shape.  “I didn’t want to take any chances this year with old sheets,” explained Allyson, “I wanted brand new ones, I even washed them and put them back in the original packaging before sending them up.”

“The first day of camp, we got off the bus, changed into our bathing suits then went straight to the pool.  I wore my flip flops and stayed 100 yards away from the lake just to be sure I didn't touch a grain of sand.  That night I showered after a sand-free dinner then went to the social hall and watched the slide show showing the highlights of last summer.  I wore brand new socks and my sneakers were tied snugly on my feet,” Jake described the first day.  “We went back to the bunk where I put on my pajamas.  I didn’t even take off my sneakers!  Have you ever been naked with just sneakers and socks on?  Very awkward, somewhat liberating.  Anyway, I sat on my bed took off my sneakers and socks then went to bed.  My feet never touched the floor.  I woke up all itchy the next morning like I’m laying on the beach in Honolulu.  What the fuck!!!”

Sand in My Bed is the main reason why not one Boys Side bunk has gotten a perfect ‘10’ Inspection score.  Bunk 15 has struggled all summer with bunk hygiene.  Before Inter Boys Group Leader Mike “Tuna” Fishman inspects, the boys are ordered to shake their sheets clean of any sand and debris, sweep up any loose particles, then yell “DUSTPAN!!” to alert their bunkmate on dustpan duty.

“I don’t get it.  My sheets are spotless then during inspection, Tuna comes in and feels under the blanket at the foot of my bed and pulls out a massive handful of sand.  It’s pouring out of his hand it’s so much,” cried Jake Goldfein, 10, of Oyster Bay.  “Is David Fuckin’ Blaine in this bunk?!?!  I actually think he’s Jewish.  I’ll ask my grandpa on Visiting Day. He’ll know.”

“Bunk 15, the Sahara called, they want their damn sand back!  8.5!! Now clean up and let's get out to your electives!” yelled Tuna.

Huron Lake’s Director Marty Fieldstein and several other camp directors have hired a team of sleep scientists to research this phenomenon and hopes to find a cure by the summer of 2018.  To donate, please call 1-866-555-SAND or visit www.sandinmybed.com.  Please don't let another over privileged young child suffer for seven to eight weeks.

Camp Huron Lake Color War a Blockbuster Success Again (Continued)

 Part 2

After the parade ended, Chatniss retreated to her bunk for a quick change of clothes only to be stopped by fellow campers Pete Mellarkowitz, a shy and semi-athletic boy from Great Neck, and Gale Horowitz, a 16 year-old strapping young man who was the object of affection of female campers, counselors and administration alike.  Pete, whose parents owned the Roslyn Bakery, approached Chatniss with an offer to help.  Chatniss remembered this generous boy who, on visiting day, took pity on her by giving her a mini Cupcake by Melissa when her family ran out of their own.  “I’ll join you Chatniss…we can win this together,” Pete whispered in her ear.

“It’s okay Pete.  You’ve done enough for me.  Those cupcakes were delicious.  I’ll never forget that,” replied Chatniss. 

“Then I’ll throw all the events I’m in for the next five days.  I promise you won’t have to go home,” pleaded Pete. 

After Pete went back to his bunk to read his Archie comics, Gale, the camp hunk, grabbed Chatniss by the arm and brought her behind Bunk 26.  “Chat, I’m going to fake an injury so I don’t have to participate in anything athletic.  I’ll just work on the banner and maybe the camp fight song,” explained Gale.

“That’s a great idea, Gale.  No one in camp would ever suspect that you’re freakishly un-artistic and can only write on a third-grade level.  Have you even written to your parents at all this summer?” asked Chatniss.

“Once, but it was the letter where I just had to check off boxes so I’m not sure if that counts.  You expect me to be handsome, athletic AND smart?”  Gale shook his head.  “Who cares…  tonight, I’m going to jump down from my bunk bed and land on Jake Gerstein’s Diablo and sprain my ankle.  I won’t be able to play anything for the next few days.”

“It’s a plan, Gale.  I’ll see you tomorrow,” Chatniss whispered as she went back to her bunk.

That evening Chatniss was taken from her bunk to meet up with her Color War advisor, Haymisha Abernaski, a now retired camp director who, as a camper, came within a broken string on his guitar during the All-Camp Sing to winning Color War in 1958.   His breath stinking of sugary bug juice, Haymisha laid out the path that would lead to a victory for Chatniss.  “Let’s look at the events you can win, like Freshman Girls softball instead of the ones that you have no chance like Counselor Tug of War,” pontificated Haymisha. “And tomorrow morning when there’s a mad scramble for sports equipment, food, and clothing, you’re going to go straight for the bow and arrow for archery, that’s your bread and butter; then grab some goggles, you can wear them for swim, basketball, and lacrosse; and make sure, and I can’t say this enough times, get blue spray paint for your hair to show your team spirit. Without that, the judges won’t believe that you’re trying.”

The next morning, the mad scramble went almost as planned with Chatniss picking up the archery equipment, goggles and a baseball glove but no hair spray paint.  Disappointed, she started the day over in lower camp swim meet and easily won in the pool.  Then she went over to Senior Boys baseball and eked out a 1-0 win, followed by a spanking in kickball delivered to the Upper Juniors, boys and girls. 

The camp team, led by senior counselors Rebecca Fishkin of Dix Hills, NY and David Goldberg of Marlboro, NJ, was dominating in the events that Chatniss couldn’t get to. 

The Boys side swept nearly every single event in her absence except for the ones that Pete had his hand in.  The camp’s biggest win was in the Senior Boys Basketball A Game where Jeremy Goldstein scored a camp record 54 points against a team of chairs placed in random spots on the court.  Goldstein, a 5’2” rising high school freshman who was cut by his middle school basketball team in Bergen County, was pleased by his stellar performance.  “There was no one there to stop me.  I dominated both ends of the court.  I stopped at 54 because it’s triple chai. This camp gives me the false inflated self confidence that I’m going to need if I expect to make the high school team next year.” 

Feldstein echoed Goldstein’s sentiments.  “By showing the kids that they can be successful, we’re enabling them to thrive when they get back to the real world.  We just hope they go to school with mostly Jewish kids so they can at least be semi-competitive.”

Over the course of the next few days, Everstein handily won the archery competition, the Apache Relay, the upper and lower girls track meets and the mega-point value Rope Burn setting a record scorching time of 24 seconds.   Very strategically during the track meet she was able to yell out to one of several camp videographers, Nigel Jones, “Hi Mom, send me some Color War Stuff!”

As the final day approached, Chatniss was exhausted, beaten down from four days of intense competition.   Over twenty campers had gone to the infirmary over that time suffering from heat exhaustion, sprained ankles and bruises, while some of the more lazy and spoiled campers went just to enjoy the air conditioning.   With only one event before the sing, all-camp Gaga, she prayed to the heavens for something that would revive her and give her the boost she sorely needed.   Only moments later, a FedEx jet screamed across the sky and parachuted down a small package to Chatniss from her mother.  She hurriedly ripped the box open and found blue sweatbands, a blue tutu, blue face paint, and a blue Mohawk wig!  Her prayers had been answered. 

Only hours after beating the entire camp in a special square mile Gaga pit, Chatniss entered Horowitz Hall for the big sing.  Dressed in all blue, she was revitalized as she sung her heart out to made up songs featuring the music of Air Supply and Survivor.  Chatniss had done the impossible.  She had made it through five of the most intense, physically demanding days of her life.  There was nothing more she could do.  Her future at Camp Huron Lake was in the hands of the judges.

Director Marty Feldstein, took the stage moments after the camp sang its final song to the tune of Peter Cetera’s “Glory of Love”.  “Here are the results of the 2013 Camp Huron Lake Color War!!!!  Chatniss, 1,836 points.  The Camp, 1,836 points!  We have a tie!!”  The entire building went silent.  Marty walked over to Camp Athletic Director Sydney Flickerman for a brief conversation then came back to the stage. 

“AT CAMP HURON LAKE, EVERYONE’S A WINNER!!!!”

The hall erupted with cheers.  It was pure mayhem.  Pete and Gale picked Chatniss up on their shoulder and carried her down to the canteen for a frozen Charleston Chew.

For accomplishing quite possibly the greatest feat in the long, storied history of Camp Huron Lake, Everstein’s parents will get a 5% discount on next year’s camp tuition if paying by cash or check on or before November 15^th.

Camp Huron Lake Color War a Blockbuster Success Again

Chatniss Everstein Saves Sister, becomes 2013 Tribute

Huron, Pa (Aug 7) – What started out as a friendly game of Canadian doubles almost a century ago has turned into one of the fiercest, most competitive Color War traditions in North America.  Camp Huron Lake has provided the backdrop for a Color War unlike any seen before.

In 1926, brothers Hymie and Sammy Goldenberg challenged fellow campers Jacob Shapiro and bunkmate Harry Lowenstein to a game of tennis doubles.  Lowenstein came down with whooping cough the day of the match but the confident Shapiro decided to play them anyway.  The Goldenbergs didn’t want to play Canadian Doubles (2 vs 1) but the ever cocky Shapiro, son of textile factory owner from the Lower East Side, made them a wager.  The losing team would have to immediately go home.  The brothers, from Scarsdale, NY pounded the younger, outclassed Shapiro who later revealed that he had never played tennis before and was merely hoping that the Goldenbergs wouldn’t call his bluff.  The next day Shapiro went home and was too ashamed to return the next summer.

So a tradition was started where a camper would volunteer to play the Goldenbergs toward the summer’s end.  In 1935, when there were no volunteers, Camp Director Shlomo Feldstein decided to randomly select one camper to compete against the brothers.  This tennis competition morphed into similar events in basketball, baseball, track, swimming and a sing.  Thus Camp Huron Lake’s Color War was born.

Like all summers past, the entire camp gathered around the flag pole where current Director Marty Feldstein reached into a large vat, normally filled with grape or red bug juice, and selected one slip of paper containing this year’s tribute. 

“Primrose Everstein! Freshman Girls – Bunk 2!!!  Congratulations!!!” 

A hush grew over the semetic crowd as bruchas and other prayers were quietly spoken.  The crush of campers parted like the Red Sea as Primrose, known to her bunkmates as “Rose” walked up to Feldstein, knowing her days of fun loving activities and cultivating life-long friendships would soon be coming to an end.  No tribute from the Freshman Girls division had ever come close to winning Color War. 

“STOP!” yelled out a feminine yet strong voice from among the crowd.  “I’ll do it!!!  My sister isn’t going anywhere!  She’s got years ahead of her at this camp.  I’ll be a CIT in a year!”  As she made her way up to meet Feldstein, escorted by bunk counselor Sara Goodman of Manalapan, NJ, to accept this monumental challenge, Chatniss Everstein, Super Teen Girl, knew the next five days would change her life forever.

“Chatniss Everstein!  Our new tribute!” screamed Feldstein only to be quickly corrected.

“It’s Chatniss, you dork…you pronounce the “Ch” like if you were saying “L’Chaim”.  She’s only been going here for six summers, Marty,” sarcastically explained a snippy senior girl camper. 

“Chatnis Everstein! Our new tribute!” a corrected Feldstein yelled to the crowd, spraying the first few rows of campers with saliva.   “May the Jewish G-d be ever in your favor!!!”

Immediately following the selection process, Chatniss was whisked away by Effie Trinketberg to the infirmary where a group of camp mothers lead by Cinnawitz, a handsome male singer born to a famous Jewish movie producer father and semi-famous African-American 1970’s actress, awaited ready to prepare her for Color War Opening Ceremonies.  These ceremonies were always a grand affair where female campers dress in their finest Galaxy pants, Butter sweatshirts, and fluorescent tank tops.  Chatniss would immediately be given a lice check then have access to the finest attire from the Lost & Found containing several decades worth of clothing. 

The Ceremonies began with a parade of bunks lead by Girls Bunk 2 who all dressed up in neon green tanks and black Soffee shorts and ended with Boys Bunk 41 parading in black shirts, pajama pants, and Timberlands.  Once settled into the stands, Chatniss made her grand entrance.  Wearing a blue and white Benetton rugby, a pair of Skidz pants, Keds, and topped off with a Duran Duran painters cap, Chatniss strode to center court and wowed the stunned audience.  The confidence exuded by this heroine put the entire camp on notice that Chatniss was not going to go home early without the fight of her life.

(to be continued…)

Area Parents Rush to Bedrooms as Children Return From Camp in 5 Days

Pressure to Take Advantage of Precious Alone Time Overwhelming for Some

Marlboro, NJ (Aug 5) – Like thousands of couples in the tri-state area, it was supposed to be their “summer of sex” featuring nightly romps in the sack and spontaneous daytime sexcapades for the Fishmans, Jennifer and Marc, but it has turned out to be anything but that for the 40-something year-old couple.   With children Jake, 13, and Hanna, 9, away at Camp Huron Lake for seven weeks, the couple planned on reviving their once fervent sex life with renewed vigor and vitality but with only five days before the kids come home, they have a lot of making up, or in this case, making out to do.

After dropping the kids off at the camp bus at Livingston Mall that Saturday, the Fishmans made a B-line into the mall to Victoria’s Secret to pick up some new racy lingerie including a push-up bra, garter belt, and crotchless panties for Jennifer then to Spencer’s where Marc picked up some mini leather whips and several boxes of novelty edible underwear to snack on before, during and after their planned love making.  Sadly, both bags of merchandise are still sitting unopened in their bedroom closet. 

Like many grandiose plans, theirs seemed doomed from the outset.  “The first night the kids were away we went to a party at the Goldbergs whose kids are naturally are away too, and I had a bit too much to drink so I passed out when we got home.  The second night I was still hung over then before you knew it, it was a weekday which is off limits for Marc since he has to be up so early for work,” explained Jennifer.  “The weekend after that, my in-laws were in town, so we fought most of the week, and with his parents only a few rooms away, Marc wasn’t touching any of this!”

Based on his friend Michael Silverstein's epic summer of 2012 where he and his wife had relations three times, Marc had unrealistic expectations.  “I honestly thought that I’d be getting undressed in the car on the way home from work and would be fully nude by the time I got in the garage.  Jennifer would be cooking in just an apron that she’d take off the second I walked through the door and then we’d just be naked the entire summer.  I was looking forward to Caligula-like orgies, but instead I’ve been forced to masturbate to porn on my iPhone once she falls asleep.”

One week turned into two and two into three.  Before they knew it, visiting day was rapidly approaching and the couple stayed clear of each other so they’d be well rested for the arduous two-hour drive to the Days Inn – Scranton, the Friday night before seeing the kids.  Disgusted by the sheets and bedspread, Jennifer slept in the back of the couple’s Chevy Tahoe, while Marc took advantage of the air-conditioned room with free HBO. 

The week after visiting day, Marc, a stock analyst, took a day trip to Chicago for quick meeting, only to come home complaining of jetlag when Jennifer asked him for relations that night.  “I was exhausted,” Marc sheepishly confessed, “I was in New Jersey, then in Chicago for the day then back home that night.  My internal clock was completely messed up by the hour going and hour coming back.  I don’t think she understands how stressful my travel can be sometimes. I ate lunch at 12 which is really 1 for me.  Then I had dinner at 6 which is 5 Chicago time.  Wait..is it the other way around?  See what I mean!!”

Overlapping weeks four and five was Jennifer’s menstrual cycle which included severe cramping and a cease and desist order to Marc to “keep his fuckin’ hands off her”.

The following week, Jennifer’s parents came up from Florida for cousin Phyllis’s 75^th birthday party, so naturally she and Marc fought most of the week over Jennifer’s father’s annoying habit of continually telling Marc to recaulk the cracks in the family room crown molding.    

But finally in week six the couple had a monumental breakthrough.  As Marc was on his way to the gym to spend an hour or so in the steam room, he accidentally brushed against his wife’s left breast which turned into a pre-dinner hand job in the living room.  Both parties were too tired to go upstairs and didn’t want their sometimes sweaty lovemaking to ruin the three-month old crushed velvet sectional they had special ordered from ABC Carpet. 

“It was great to finally get that physical contact we so badly needed,” said Marc.  “I’d hate to think that my son was possibly more sexually active than I’ve been this summer.”

With less than a week before the children arrive back home, the Fishmans, who used to have sex at least once a week before the kids were born, have lofty expectations of the next few nights.  Jennifer remarked, “Just turn off the lights, get on top and get it over with” to which Marc replied, “Works for me.”

Camp Huron Lake Breaks Color War with New Rainbow Loom!!

“Not a Fake Out” swears director; “Screw that cheap bastard” yells junior boy

Lake Huron, Pa (Aug 3) – Horowitz Hall was filled to the brim with 400 raucous campers with boys side screaming “WE WANT A BREAKOUT, NOT A FAKE OUT!!” over and over followed by girls side chant “A.C.T.I.O.N, Action, Action, We Want Action!”  Excitement filled the 75 year-old structure to the brim.  One camper said she “felt like the walls were going to explode!” 

Director Marty Feldstein, dressed in Camp Huron Lake attire from head to toe, strode to the stage and grabbed the microphone from the stand.  Metallica’s “Enter Sandman” blared through overhead speakers and throughout camp as the anticipation grew.  Marty’s wife, Helene, dressed in a way too tight sequined gown walked up next to him and presented him a shoebox-sized wrapped gift.  Marty held the box up high to show the camp then proceeded to unwrap it and expose it for all to see.

“Who wants to guess what’s in this box?” asked Marty.

Senior boy Jake Liebowitz shouted out, “It’s a light saber!  Star Wars is coming! Star Wars is coming!”

“It’s better!!!” replied Marty.

“It’s a pair of Nikes!  LeBron is here!!!” yelled out junior girl Emily Wasserman.

“Still better!” Marty yelled back.

“It’s Robin Thicke’s mircrophone! Oh baby, this is awesome!!!” screamed Jill Horowitz, 15. 

 “Better…It's a new Rainbow Loom for Arts & Crafts!!!” yelled Marty. “Color War has begun!!!!”

Silence filled the once deafening field house.  A stunned room waited for Marty to let everyone in on the joke that never came.   “I hope he’s kidding.  If not, this is the worst fuckin’ breakout ever,” exclaimed sophomore girl camper, Emma Rothstein, 9.   As the campers walked dejectedly back to their bunks to prepare for the five day Color War comments of “my dad’s going to sue this place”, “I hope this camp has a good attorney, because we’re suing” and “I’m taking him to court.  My dad’s a lawyer,” were overheard.  Many believed that there was no way a simple bracelet maker could signify the start of camp’s most anticipated event. 

“If this really is it, my friends are gonna have a fuckin’ field day on me when I get home.  They’re gonna rip me a new one.  Their camps do real stuff,” lamented Jake Goldberg, 7.  “This cheap son of a bitch has ruined my g-d damn summer.  I heard last year he broke Color War with a Debbie Gibson impersonator so I didn’t think it could get worse.  Fuck…now I have to find a new place to go next year.”

As the sun came up on Camp Huron Lake the next morning, campers were still waiting for the ‘real’ breakout to happen.  But unfortunately it never did.  Nevertheless, the campers enjoyed a fun five days of activities as they eagerly awaited a turn at the camp Rainbow Loom. 

When asked if he had a healthy supply of camp colors blue and white rubber bands to use with the Rainbow Loom, Marty replied confusedly, “You need rubber bands for this?  Oh shit!”

Family Finally Receives Letter from Son at Camp

Merrick, NY (Aug 1, 2013) – After six and a half weeks of lonely, desperate walks from her house to her mailbox and back, Meryl Ginsburg, 41, has finally gotten some form of correspondence from her son, Jake, 10, a camper at Camp Huron Lake.   Postmarked July 25^th, the post card provided the great detail about Jake’s summer that Meryl and her husband Jason have longed for over the past month and a half. 

Upon opening up the mailbox and sifting through a stack of catalogs, bills, and solicitations, Ginsburg burst into tears at the sight of Jake’s postcard.  As she cried her way up the driveway, whispering “Thank you, G-d” repeatedly to herself, all the other mail unknowingly dropped to the ground around her creating a long papery trail to the garage door. 

Receiving the 3x5 card, the glossy side emblazoned with the word “CAMP” in a rainbow of colors along with a pre-labeled address, was an unbelievable relief to the Ginsburgs who could only go by the camp website pictures to see if Jake was having a good time.  Once in the house, Mrs. Ginsburg excitedly called her husband at work.  “WE GOT A POSTCARD FROM JAKE!!! I HAVE TO READ IT TO YOU!!!”  Jason, a local neurosurgeon, immediately bolted out of a carotid artery endarterectomy to take the call in his office. 

Meryl went on, “For the checkbox, Camp is… he chose ‘Good’!”  Isn’t that amazing!  For the next one he said the kids in his bunk are ‘Nice’!!!!!!”  Oh my god, it’s like I’m there with him!!  For the third line, he checked that the food is ‘OK’!!!!  Wait a sec…that may just be a smudge from the postal transfer process…no, no..it’s ‘OK’!  I knew it!!! The last line he filled in that his favorite thing to do is ‘Stuff’!  That is SOOOO Jake.  Isn’t this amazing, Jason?  It would have been nice if he’d have signed his name but, hey, I’ll take it!”

After the near one-sided conversation, Mrs. Ginsburg read the letter several more times before calling her mother to share the wonderful news.  “We just got a postcard from Jake.  He said everything is either good or ok.  He’s so expressive with his vocabulary!  I’m signing him up for Creative Writing Enrichment this year.”  Jake’s Grandmother, Shirley Weintraub, was equally excited, “I knew my little Jakey was going to be a regular Mark Twain or better yet, a Shel Silverstein!”

The moment the phone call ended, Mrs. Ginsburg ran out of the house to her local Hallmark store to buy more stationery to send to Jake.  “He’s probably running out, my little writer!”

New Campers Enjoy BBQ at Camp Huron Lake while Mothers Freak over Lack of Essentials

Thompson, PA (June 8, 2012) – On an unseasonably cool and damp June afternoon,  rookie campers experienced a slice of what they have to look forward to all summer as their mothers compared and contrasted packing lists and hygienic products.    Young semetic boys and girls played basketball and kickball as well as partook in lanyard making sessions. 

While the children were reveling in their new summer home, parents were taken on a tour of the sprawling grounds of Camp Huron Lake, a camp comprised of mostly Jewish youth from well-off but not extravagantly wealthy families.  As mothers began to huddle during the walk, conversation quickly switched to how excited they were for their children to what they’d be packing for the summer. 

“I was having a great time until I ran into Cynthia Rust,” explained Lauren Blustein of  New Jersey.   “I was packing four tooth brushes for my son but after talking to her, I don’t think that’s enough.    She’s packing ten and sending up one with every letter she writes plus a gross of toothbrushes on Visiting Day.   I have to get to CVS on the way home.  Shit! DOES ANYONE KNOW IF THERE’S A CVS IN SCRANTON???”

Mrs. Rust, also from New Jersey, defended her actions.  “If Jake’s toothbrush touches another toothbrush, that’s not one of his, it gets thrown away.  If it touches the sink, ground, a towel, someone’s soap, another camper, any piece of hair, attached to someone’s head or on the sink, any clothing, he’s breaking out a new Oral-B.  If the brush touches a tooth with chocolate on it, if it’s used to get something out between two teeth, if it’s used to clean his teeth, it gets tossed.  Fuck it.  Why don’t we just get him disposable toothbrushes? That’s a great idea! 51 days times 3 brushes a day times 2 for each brushing in case anything happens.  That’s a lot of toothbrushes to pack.  I guess he’ll only bring 30 pairs of underwear instead of 45.”

When asked about his oral hygiene, new camper Matthew Blustein offered, “I have to bring a toothbrush?  Oh, man.  I thought I was getting a break from that for the summer.  Oh well, at least my parents won’t be yelling at me to brush.”

As the girls and boys enjoyed hamburgers and hot dogs and ice cream sandwiches, nervous mothers of boys were too frazzled to eat.    One mother, Stephanie Wolfson also from New Jersey, foolishly mentioned that her son was going to bring Axe roll-on deodorant.   That set off another angst-filled frenzy among the mothers.   Axe, the number one selling male hygiene product on Staten Island, is also apparently a favorite among the coveted 8-9 year old male Jewish demographic.  “When my son goes to a social, I want to make sure those little princesses can smell him coming from a mile away,” explained Wolfson.  When asked why a 9 year old has the need for deodorant Rust offered a simple explanation.  “In the off chance that my son sprouts a single hair under his arm in the seven weeks he’s away, I want to make sure that hair doesn’t stink up the entire bunk.”

The conversation quickly veered toward the amount of socks being packed by one mother, Erin Levy.    “Twenty pairs of socks?  That’s all you’re bringing??” exclaimed the serial over-packer     “I’m sending around sixty.  I lost track after packing Alex’s  Day 3 Color War afternoon yellow ankle-length socks.” 

Parents of girl campers were not immune to the over-zealous packing of others.   Maureen Hoffman of New Jersey who is planning to get to the Sunday bag drop off at the Livingston Mall the Friday night before just to make sure her daughter’s monogrammed duffle bags get safely on the truck, was concerned about some of the mothers packing items typically not needed for nine year old girls.  “I overheard one mother of a seven-year old saying she accidentally allowed her daughter to drink non-organic milk at a family graduation party when she was three so she’s sending up a few of her old pre-Lulu Lemon sports bras just in case.  What the hell is wrong with these people?!?!” 

Cynthia Rust chimed in. “Although as a third-grader, my son is still at the stage where he ‘hates’ girls, I’m sending him up with a few bras too in case he dates an older camper whose mother didn’t think to pack one for her.”