Cherry Hill

Cherry Hill, to me, was a magical place we drove by when I was a kid.  It was magical because it had little castles and windmills.  I imagined that princesses just my size were petting tiny unicorns and eating sugar cereals inside those delightful buildings.  Later, I found out that the magical castles were just part of a miniature golf course, which was great, I guess, but not all that magical.

Then Cherry Hill built waterslides.  It the '80's, waterslides were the big, new thing, and the twin slides at Cherry Hill were no exception.  I tore down those slides and sprinted up to the top with my slippery mat too many dozen times to count.

In addition to the miniature windmills and rapid waterslides, and all the water park features they have added over time, Cherry Hill is also a campground with a reputation for being clean, shady, friendly and fun.  When I walk past the rows and rows of bumped-out campers and vinyl tents and smell the gas-soaked charcoal smoke wafting from behind clothes lines and stacks of Coleman coolers, I get this irrational burst of endorphins that makes me want to sleep outside.

This weekend, with Scott and the bigs out of town, it seemed like the perfect time.  Sure, I would have to take Tziporah, but there's no time like the present!  (Which is just a nice way of saying I'm terribly impulsive.)

Being impulsive has its advantages, like the feeling of excitement over a new idea and the fact that you get to do things you wouldn't do if you had the wherewithal to think it through.

Camping alone with five kids turned out to be awesome.  We did waterslides all day long, we had a picnic with Ryan and his kids at our campsite, the kids set up the tent all by themselves, we ate a pie with Es and Abe, and we stayed up late at Cherry Hill's free concert.  The concert featured Cori Connors, a singer/songwriter who performs at our ballet recitals.  It was lovely.  It also featured Ptolemy screaming, "My eyeball!  My eyeball!  My eyeball fell in the lazy river!"  Uncle Josh had bought him an eyeball bouncy ball, which was floating in the closed and placid lazy river.  With the concert as a backdrop, Josh scaled the fence and climbed down into the lazy river to retrieve the eyeball with his feet.  Ptolemy and Abe have a new hero!  After the show (Josh's show or Cori's, depending on who you are), the four kids all nestled into their tent and went to sleep soundlessly.  Tziporah nestled into her "crib," i. e. the trunk of the minivan, and screamed for five minutes straight before falling asleep.  Poor girl!  She never cries it out at home.  Someone always rushes in to save her at the least whimper.  I slept in the car, too, and must have slept soundly for awhile, because I woke up with a sore hip from being in one curled-up position for too long.

In the morning at the mercifully late hour of 7:00, Tziporah announced in a freaked-out voice that we were in a strange place, sleeping in the back of our car!  We woke up the other kids and went home for breakfast before returning to take down our camp.  Again, the kids did all the work.  Man, how did I get such great kids?!

We will definitely have to do that again...once my hip recovers!