Returning Home

I just recently got back from a crazy adventure affectionately called "Boy Deprivation Camp." Well, I think most people prefer to call it "Girls Camp," but it's pretty much the same thing, right?

I arrived at the stake center and waited for my mother to pick me up. I was greeted by Janell and the first thing I said to her was, "Do ya wanna carry my suitcase?" I know, I'm a charming sister.
When I saw my mother walking towards me with open arms I realized how dirty I was with one look at her well-kept hair and clean clothes. I was wearing dirty sweat pants, a T-shirt, and my hair was in two thick ponytails resting on my shoulders. She hugged me to the point of not breathing before she stepped back to look me over. She scowled at my sweat pants and I hopped in the front seat of the car.
"I have a surprise for you...!" Mom teased.
"MY SCHEDULE?!?!??!" I panted, "Did you get it?!?!?!?!!"
"No..." Mom said with a smile, "This." She pulled out my beautiful purple iPod nano. I was dissappointed I didn't get my schedule, but happy to have my music once again. I touched the wheel of my iPod and the screen lit up... to my favorite song!!! I threw my earbuds in my ears and listened to the rumbling drums and the heavenly voice of Bruno Mars. A grin crept up my dirt-streaked face as we drove down the road in our comfortable and clean mini-van.

We stepped into my house through the garage door and my eleven-year-old brother, Braden, shot up the stairs. "TESSA!!!!!!!!!!!!!" he grabbed me and gave me a giant, tight hug. I looked up at him. He had a fohawk! I smiled, "You're a cutie with a fohawk." Instantly he offered to make me lunch. I gladly allowed him and  went downstairs to unpack.

I soon was upstairs in the bathroom soaking in the bath after a shower while my iPod sang from the speaker I set up accross from the tub. I sang, shaved my legs, scrubbed my hair, and washed myself blissfully.
When I was finished, I wrapped myself in a towel, opened the bathroom door, and peered down the stairs. "Dang," I mumbled. One of Dad's old mission companions sat on our living room couch. "I can't go down there," I said to myself, "I have no clothing on..." I glanced back at my dirty clothes. With a sigh I put them back on. "I'll shower again tonight," I thought and darted down the stairs.
When I reached the wood floor, I looked in the living room and almost died. Apparently Dad's friend brought his son along. And he was attractive. And I was wearing dirty clothes with messy, wet hair. All heads turned to me. Mom explained to the dude that I had just gotten back from girls camp. I answered their questions quietly. Dad introduced me to the guy and his son. With a thumbs-up I said, "Fun stuff..." before racing down the stairs.

This has been a weird, weird, weekend...