Darling Daughter wanted to go camping with her friends. Camping is something I enjoyed at her age (14), but hate now. I felt guilty depriving her of this experience. So when the opportunity presented itself, I was quite happy.
The downside is that the camp is a church camp. Now we are spiritual people, but not religious. Not for lack of trying, I'm a non-practicing Catholic, Lutheran, Wiccan, and Neo-nonsensical pagan.
The particular church involved in this camp is the Mormon church. Now you may wonder I would allow my daughter to attend a camp that is run by one of the more strict and conservative religious organizations.
Well it wasn't just an opportunity for her to live for a week without a blow dryer and makeup. First reason: The family that runs the camp are very good friends of mine. And they are a nice family. Regardless of what I may think of their religion, they are loving families who take care and nurture one another.
Second reason: I want my kid to be tolerant of others. Tolerance gets a bad rap, but I believe that tolerance is the solution to prejudice. Of course, tolerance is not a blanket to accept any behavior. But even though I think most religious people are full of shit, as long as they don't hurt anyone, or become a pain in the ass about it, or try to make laws so that I have to follow their rules, it's Ok with me if they want to be full of shit. I'll tolerate it.
Now this camp has rules, one of which was a "modesty standard". The girls are not allowed to wear shorts above their knees, only one piece bathing suits, no tank tops or sleeveless shirts and no belly shirts or halters. I thought this would be a deal breaker for my daughter, because, much to my disappointment, she is the fashion goddess. But she surprised me and said it didn't matter, because she really wanted to go to the camp, and didn't care about the clothing.
So off we went to shop for camping supplies and modest clothing. While shopping in Foreman Mills, darling daughter picked up a cute tank and short set. I said, "Put that down, don't you know that Jesus hates your thighs? And your shoulders too." Then she grabbed a halter and said, "Can't buy that, Jesus hates my stomach."
We continued throughout the store, commenting on what Jesus would not approve. I'm not sure what the other shoppers thought of our commentary, but we were cracking each other up.
Blasphemy can be a great topic for mother-daughter bonding.
1 day ago