Approving the frog farm should have been enough, but finding metal salad forks in my freezer clinched it for this year. Once again, cousins camp would be a learning opportunity. For me.
Ten grandkids, ages sixteen to three, gathered for a few days of fun while I facilitated and fed them.
My eleven acres provided a rich environment for exploring and digging.
I had gathered a gallon jar full of buttons to use for crafts. (Well, my sister found the jar at an estate sale, and the prior owner must have spent a lifetime saving buttons.)
“That’s a ka-jillion buttons,” I said, turning the jar from side to side.
Math Boy, who is twelve, smiled. “Ka-jillion is a complete number. You can’t have a ka-jillion and one.”
Learned something.
We painted rocks on day three, to be followed by the button craft and then building miniature gardens.
The ka-jillion button craft paled next to finding a water tank and adding water, rocks, and sponges, then lovingly pouring in caught frogs. Voila! A frog farm.
We never dipped into the ka-jillion buttons.
While throwing together a meal, I discovered metal forks nestled atop the ice cubes.
The fifteen-year-old explained that when someone lays icy forks on the counter beside regular forks, placing your forearm on the forks feels like you’ve laid it on a grill. No actual burning involved. How cool is that?
The fourteen-year-old provided the forearm and then howled. “It feels like that!”
I’m sure that trick will be a hit at my next birthday party.
The best story of the week came when some of the kids accompanied me and my dog for a stroll beside a local canal. Scout likes to dive in for a swim, but the kids were skeptical that he would jump in the water.
“He does it as often as he can,” I assured them.
“Does he drown very often?” one asked.
So at cousins camp this year, I learned about icy forks. How to assemble a frog farm.
And that my dog has nine lives.