Lessons Learned (A little humor for your Monday) by Guest Blogger Linzi (Cain) Hansen

Linzi (Cain) Hansen--HoneyRock Executive Council

Whenever I am prompted to remember my
"most embarrassing moment", my thoughts flood immediately
back to my very first summer at Honey Rock. I was a budding 9-year-old
girl with an ever-present awareness of her changing body during her
first summer away at camp. I had signed up to do the Solid Rock Club
(check out the website for that definition, it's right next to "Sign
Up For Camp!"), but I hadn't developed the necessary skills to
coordinate the wardrobe needed for such participation. Was I supposed
to change into my bathing suit before my cabin was even awake yet? What
if they were watching me? I didn't think I had enough time to run to
the bathroom to change if I planned to get exactly 7 hours and 45 minutes
of sleep. So I settled on changing into my bathing suit the night before
in my sleeping bag, then just sleeping in it. In those days at Honey
Rock, the unit leader of your particular unit would come around and
sing a song for you before you went to bed. So just as I was getting
into my sleeping bag to change, Leon knocked on our cabin door just
as he did every night. I quickly threw on my suit and my jammies, hoped
that all my plotting would pay off, and joined my cabin. 

The next morning, after getting exactly
7 hours and 45 minutes of sleep, I got up, waggled my way to the rock
(a cross between a walk and a jog), and got to the lake as one of the
last campers in the swimming area. As I was walking to the dock to begin
my swim, I couldn't help but hearing snickering from the campers just
completing theirs. I figured it was because I was the last one in the
lake, and being the last one in anything in junior high is basically
forfeiting any ‘cool’ you might have. Even at camp. But it wasn't
until I got to the edge of the dock that I realized I had my bathing
suit on inside out. Now, that may not sound that embarrassing to you,
and maybe you've worn your bathing suit inside out once or twice for
a little change of pace. But take into consideration that my father
took Honey Rock's advice very seriously
when they suggested you should label your children's clothes with their
names. And that included my bathing suit. So on the inside lining was
written in an artsy diagonal scattered pattern in a handwriting only
a father can produce, “Linzi Carn” and then
right below it “Linzi Cain.” Apparently, the ‘i’ in my last
name had blended a little using the half-inch thick magic marker he
was using. And if in fact, I lost my bathing suit, he didn’t want
Honey Rock looking for Linzi Carn. At that point, I was very thankful
I was the last one swimming. 

So just a word of advice for you parents,
maybe consider the sew-on on labels.