Camp...

I am currently up at camp with my Year 8 boys. I am seeing them in a completely new light. They ask me questions about what they should wear; if they will be too hot, too cold. 'Should I put a bandaid on this?', 'What are we having for dinner?', 'I've dropped the rainwater measurer in the dam, what should I do?' And many other such questions. They try so hard to be brave and cool but sometimes they cry and then pretend that they aren't. When it's time for supper before bed, they forget that they're meant to be looking cool and instead sit chomping on their buscuits and slurping big glasses of milk without a second thought. I couldn't fight the urge to tell them how adorable they all looked at this point last night and I received many stares of mock anger and grumbles of 'Oh, shoosh Miss Rowe!' and instead of pointing out the hilarity of their milk moustaches, I just smiled at them adoringly.
There is one boy in particular who has had a complete personality change since we got here. I said to him today, 'You're so different here, you seem much happier.' And without any hint of malice, but with complete innocence and sincerity, he said, 'Yeah, I just really hate school.'

At this poignant point in my blog entry I have been interrupted by this question and collection of following statements:

'Miss Rowe, what do you think is the worst smell in the world? Garlic? Rotten eggs or something like that? Rotten fish?!'

There was no need for me to answer.