(I am a counselor at a day camp that parents can enroll their children in for up to six weeks. The kids are playing ‘Sharks and Minnows”, a game where players, the ‘minnows,’ must run across a field without being tagged by the handful of other players designated as ‘sharks.’ At the start of the game, I notice one of the kids, storming to the sidelines, so I go over to check up on her.)

Me: “Hey, [Kid], what’s going on? Don’t you want to play Sharks and Minnows?”

Kid: “I hate this game! It’s dumb! I didn’t get picked to be a shark, again, and it’s only fun if you’re a shark! I don’t want to be a stupid minnow!”

Me: “Well, the thing is, we need to give everyone a turn being a shark, so everyone has to be a minnow a lot, too.”

Kid: “This is my second week at camp and I’ve only been a shark once! It’s not fair! Why don’t I get to be a shark?”

(Another child, has been sitting quietly a few feet away applying an ice pack to his ankle, which he’d rolled earlier that day. He pipes up now.)

Other Child: “This is my third week in camp and I’ve never gotten picked to be a shark.”

Me: “See, how do you think [Other Child] would feel if you got another turn as a shark, when he’s never been a shark at all?”

Kid: *glowering at me* “It’s not faaaaiiiiir!”

(She stomps off. The other child glances over at me.)

Other Child: “I don’t think that’s what fair is, but she can have my turn as a shark. It’s okay.”

(I am at my school’s drama camp, with a bunch of people in my dorm who don’t know me very well. I warn them that I am prone to sleepwalking and talking, however they don’t believe me. I end up saying various things during the night, such as the following.)

Me: *meowing*

Me: “Bam, and the dirt is gone.”

Girl #1: “Did she say ‘bam, I’m a dirty slut?'”

Girl #2: “No, you idiot, it’s the Easy-Off Bam slogan.”

Me: *In a British accent* “I don’t like blueberries.”

Me: “Peachy Breeze is peachy keen.”

Me: *singing* “You’ll find it at LeCornu’s”

(The girls then decide to all go to the bathroom, as girls do. When they get back I am cross-legged in the middle of the room, rocking back and forth with my hair covering my face. The girls scream and run out of the room, waking a teacher. They tell the teacher what has happened, and she accompanies them back to our room ‘protect them.’ Naturally, by this time I am back in bed, and look as peaceful as an angel. The teacher then leaves.)

Me: *meowing*

Girl #1: *bursts into tears*

(My parents run a general grocery store on a camping/caravanning site. I am 15 and work there. When mum goes on her break and I am alone, I love to watch the shoppers as they walk around putting items in their basket. I know the price of every item in the store so I add it up in my head. When they come to pay I ‘heft’ the basket – as if I am weighing it – and then announce the price.)

Me: “That will be £4.22.”

Customer: *gives me an odd look*

(I enter the items into the till, and it comes to exactly the same price.)

Customer: *looks amazed, and silently hands over the money*

(I overhear the customer talk to their partner outside the shop.)

Customer: “Do you know what that young lad in the shop can do? Amazing!”

(I am working at a summer camp that specializes in performing and visual arts. The kids go to different ‘shops’ to create different projects. The dining room is pretty small, so every day one counselor is on line duty to regulate how quickly kids go inside. On my day, I’m trying to talk to the kids to keep them entertained while they wait. I am talking to one eleven-year-old boy when this happens:)

Me: “What did you do this morning?”

Camper: “Well, I went to puppetry for a while, but I got thrown out.”

Me: “I see.”

Camper: “I didn’t know counselors could do that. I don’t think they should be able to throw us out. We’re kids, so we’re more important.”

Me: “Yeah, but if you’re being so disruptive that other kids can’t work, then they can ask you to leave.”

Camper: “I don’t think they should. Campers are more important than counselors. You know why? First, because we’re kids. Second, because without us, you wouldn’t have any jobs.”

(I was so surprised that he said it that I couldn’t think of a good response. Later, I talked to one of the puppetry counselors, and she said they had to throw him out every day!)

Boyfriend: *announcing to all my friends on a camp about our whole group trip to a pizza place* “I had my hand on her thigh so it counts as a date!”

Me: “What am I getting into?”