Well, Coo Coo Ca-choo, Mrs. Robinson

Mr. C spent last week in a playcamp at a neighborhood park, hosted by our city's recreation department.  It was a momentous week for him: not only did he spend each day outside -- with no screen time -- doing active things, but he fell in love with an older woman.


The object of his affection was one of the camp counselors, a young lady by the name of Cassie.  I first met her when I dropped in at lunchtime the first camp day.  (Uh, NO: I wasn't "spying".  I just happened to be circling past the park.  Three times.) 

Obviously, I wasn't aware of his feelings towards her at the time.  (How could I be?  He'd only met her like, 3 hours earlier.)  So when I walked up to them by the slides, I expected Mr. C to smile happily at seeing me and maybe run up for a hug.  Instead, he stayed firmly in place by her side and didn't even have the decency to seem phased by my surprise appearance; he gave me a cool, "Hi, Mom," and returned his attention to his paramour. 

Not wanting to be one of those mothers, I stayed about 60 seconds to make small talk with Cassie and, after assuring myself that he was fine at this new camp, I left Mr. C for the rest of the day.  It wasn't until pick-up later that afternoon that Mr. C smiled and admitted that "I kind of like that girl Cassie".

"Well, of course he'd like her," rationalized Bee, when I pointed her out on the second day of camp.  Being an oblivious older female, it had taken me longer to see the undeniable:

1)  Cassie is approximately 17 years old
2)  Cassie has clear, Amanda Seyfried eyes
3)  Cassie has long, blond hair
4)  Cassie has long, tan legs

What's not for a six-year-old boy to love?

Since I am a supportive mother who works hard to build up my child's self-confidence, I totally ratted him out that next morning.  "Mr. C has a crush on you, just so you know," I whispered to Cassie as Mr. C was off putting his lunch bag in the communal camp pile.  She snorted but looked pleased, the added benefit being that I think she gave him extra attention all week.

That evening, he made some gawd-awful "Miner's Biscuits" from a kids' cookbook.  (It's not his fault the biscuits sucked, obviously.  It's the pioneers' fault.)  As I helped him proudly pack a few in his lunchbox for the next day, I suggested he might take an extra one for Cassie.

He studied his creations, carefully counting how many he had and weighing that and his desire for them against his interest in impressing Cassie.

"Nah," he quickly concluded, and packed up the rest for himself.

He really must work on his courting.

The romance, although admittedly one-sided, came fast and burned all week (in a lazy, "if it's convenient" sort of way).  Mr. C was sad at the camp's conclusion, and I don't think it's just because he liked the games.  We will be taking a few weeks off to pursue other interests, but Mr. C will return for another week-long camp at the end of July.

Hopefully, Cassie will wait for him.