It was the first time I was going to a camp; the first camp I had ever been to. And I was there.

The place was called Camp Buckner, and it was a strange little place northwest of Austin, TX. It had been a long five hour drive from Houston, but we had finally arrived. That night, we were all assembled in a hall, ready for another boring lecture.

Instead, however, we were told to assemble into our game teams, which were groups we had been assigned to. From our team, we picked the largest and smallest kids. Since I was at a middle-school camp, I was easily the smallest.

Each pair stepped out from each team (there were around 8 in all), and everyone parted to let them into a large open area in the middle. Each large kid was given a pantyhose and told to put it on his head.

These pantyhose were not normal; there was a egg tied to the top of each one, so that when it was worn over the face much like a burglar would a ladies sock, it would protrude from the top. Then I, along with all the smaller kids, were given a magazine.

We were told to roll it up. And then we were told we were playing “Destroy the Egg”.

Without even thinking, we knew what the game was. But we were explained it anyway. We had to break everyone else’s egg. When your egg is broken, you have lost. The last person with an unbroken egg wins.

Then they told us to climb onto the larger kid’s shoulders. We all groaned.

So there I was, sitting on top of the larger kid’s shoulders, an egg sticking out of his head. The game began, and everyone began blundering around, and I began whacking every possible thing I saw, including, unfortunately (for that person), some faces, and one egg.

Before I could continue on my whacking spree, however, someone had come over, and before I could do anything, he had whacked our egg. Cold icky egg squished all over the larger kid’s head, and he groaned. I jumped off quickly, fearing some of it would get on me.

As I ran away, I saw the larger kid clutching the pantyhose, walking towards the restroom.