If you are a summer camp counselor like me, especially for younger kids, I am sure you can agree that it is one of the most draining, frustrating, hair-pulling jobs. Kids are exhausting, period. If you're ever curious as to what goes on in a typical day of a camp counselor, here's a glimpse of mine.

7:00 AM: I wake up, dreading just another ordinary day consisting of tattletales and scraped knees. Will this be the day I finally break?

7:30 AM: Unfortunately, being a camp counselor requires you to wear your camp's t-shirt. I slip that on over my swimsuit along with my shorts, gym shoes, first-aid fanny pack, and sunglasses. I then tie my hair up in a messy bun, because when you work at a camp, there is absolutely NO point in appearing decent if you are going to end up looking like a nightmare at the end of the day. Since I barely have any time to sit down for breakfast, I blend a quick smoothie and chomp down on an apple. I then make my sad excuse for a lunch (I most likely won't be able to eat it anyway, considering I'm busy losing my voice by yelling at my campers to sit down and eat their lunch).

8:00 AM: It's time for me to leave the quietness of my home and drive myself to face the wrath of my campers. On the drive there, I think about all the possibilities: will one of my campers have an allergic reaction? Will another fall off the swing and crack his head open?

8:45 AM: It's time. The campers finally start pouring in, all cheerful and happy and excited for the day. I envy them, wishing it was me having all the fun. I then have to wait a half hour in the hot sun until all of them arrive. My biggest pet peeve here is that when you are required to ask every single child if they have applied sunscreen, they lie about it, and then they burn and it's your fault.

9:15 AM: After what seems like 50 million hours, my co-counselor and I are finally able to get all our campers inside. Another 2 years later, we are finally able to sit them down for story time while I go pick out a snack that I think will satisfy each and every child. There's nothing worse than choosing a snack you think that every kid will like until you get to the last one who claims that they don't like Goldfish crackers. I know you're tricking me into getting another snack that you want, child. You get what you get, and you don't get upset (this was probably my most used sentence during the whole entire summer). I mean, come on, what 7-year-old doesn't like Goldfish? As I read stories to my campers, I am probably interrupted by many who only state the obvious facts about the story ("That giraffe is really tall!" Really? I never knew!), which I have to reply by constantly "shhh-ing" them.

10:00 AM: Time for the playground, AKA hell to counselors. It starts by having to reapply loads of sunscreen and having to help some campers out who are not able to do it themselves. Some of my campers take probably 5 years before they are finished applying. Once we all get to the playground, this hour consists of me being purposely stabbed by wood chips, developing blisters pushing kids on the swings, and lugging the same child to the bathroom every 15 minutes, even though they went at least 5 minutes ago. It doesn't faze me when one of them purposely pees on the floor and then his mom has to be called. It's just another ordinary day to me.

11:00 AM: Children seem to have this miraculous talent where they can down their water bottles within 20 seconds. Since we would get in trouble for dehydration, my co and I have to make sure all of the campers fill up their water bottles. I have to make sure I do as well, because it's extremely easy to lose water and succumb to the heat when all you do is race around and sweat. It's also swim suit time as well, and I have to help dress multiple naked 7-year-olds into their swimsuits, which can take time.

11:30 AM: Only a half hour till noon, I can do this. It's time to board the buses to go swimming. Once arrived at the pool, one half of the campers are taken under my wing to use the bathroom, while the other half heads off for swim lessons. This time of the day is one of the most painful and grueling for me. One scraped their knee, another doesn't feel comfortable in swim level 2 and therefore throws a crying fit, another complains about how their eyes burn without goggles (here's a solution: bring your goggles!). All of this is occurring while I stand under the burning sun making sure children don't drown each other, and it makes me want to explode with fury, only half way through the day. I have to remind myself to keep my cool, and in only 3-4 hours I can go home.

12:45 PM: After a great deal of lost clothing and glasses, reapplying sunscreen, and lecturing campers to keep their voices down on the bus, we are finally back at camp. It's time to eat lunch, and thank God for that because I haven't eaten for hours. Not eating + children= a big no no. Of course, campers' lunches come before the counselors, so I have to get that settled along with the campers who ordered hot lunches. I should have known I would have gotten a good 5 minutes to eat my own lunch, as kids are very fascinated by their surroundings and will not, I repeat WILL NOT, stay put and eat. There is always that one troublesome camper who you have to lecture over and over, and unfortunately I had one in my group. By the time lunch is over, my throat is sore by constantly yelling at them to finish their sandwiches or throw their Fruit By The Foot wrappers away before they can go play on the playground. I've probably eaten a grand total of 3 strawberries along with a couple of carrots.

1:30 PM: More playground time, known also as the the campers' favorite time to make jokes. I can't tell you how many of the same knock-knock jokes and stupid remarks I've heard over and over again. All I can do is laugh and say "You got me!" repeatedly. Kids complain about the silliest things, from "I couldn't catch Pikachu on Pokemon Go", to "Daddy wouldn't let me have a cupcake for breakfast" to "My mom packed me Golden Oreos instead of the regular kind". In my mind, all I'm thinking is that I'd kill to have those "problems" again, they just need to wait till they're older. Also during this time, there are more bathroom journeys, and slips and trips. Campers fall off the playground equipment, and one bumps another in line for the slide. I just think to myself how normal this is to me and laugh, compared to someone else who spends their summers in freedom.

2:30 PM: There's about one hour left of camp, I'm so close to freedom. This last hour is consisted of crafts. No matter how many times we explain the instructions or physically demonstrate the process, these kids still come up with their own way of art, somehow. I go around painting their hands blue and red so they can create hand faces, but it only worsens when paint is spilled on the floor, streaked in their hair, and stained on their clothes. It seems as if it takes many years to try to get the paint out and direct them all to the sink to wash their messy hands.

3:15 PM: The time I have been waiting for has finally arrived. The start of pick up. Immediately, about 5 kids leave, which is relieving. But there's also the fact that I have to distract the 7 remaining. As we play games and I have to continue screaming at them to stay off the playground, they each leave one by one.

4:00 PM: All the campers are finally gone, and I breathe a sigh of relief. We've had our post-camp day staff meeting, I've clocked out, and now I'm finally free; free to do what I want and hang out with my friends, people my own age. Or collapse into a heap on the couch. Except for the fact that I have to go back less than 20 hours later.

This was just a peek into the role of a camp counselor, and each and every single day leaves me dead inside. Although kids can frustrate you very easily, it is all worth it. Yes, this job is painstakingly exhausting and at the end of the day, I may look like a horror, but these long hours make this job all worth it if I get to see smiles on my campers' faces.