Don't tell Cindy

Some people always seem to loom larger than life in your mind. I've made it a personal policy to not use names in my blog. However, today, I'm breaking my rule. No pseudonym would cut it. It has to be Cindy.

Who is Cindy? She's been an important presence in my life from an early age at the camp I attended every summer in Maine. She is a role model, a mentor, a guide - and - someone who frequently seemed to be my conscience throughout my childhood. Cindy was the head of the waterfront, and the head of safety at camp for quite some time, so she was quite the rule enforcer. It seemed like every time I would even think of breaking a rule such as swimming without a lifeguard, Cindy would either magically appear, or I would hear her voice in my head.

Cindy has a wonderfully dry sense of humor, so all she would have to do would be to raise one eyebrow, and I knew instantly that I had a) done something questionable but b) that she still loved me anyways.

Today, my camp friend and I took a canoe out on a lake. Even today, miles from camp, we still constantly thought of Cindy.

"We aren't wearing our PFD's!" (Personal flotation devices.)
"Don't tell Cindy."

"We aren't kneeling in the boat!"
"Don't tell Cindy."

At one point in order to talk, my friend turned around to face me and paddled backwards while I paddled forwards.
"Don't tell Cindy!"

There seemed to be numerous moments throughout the day in which we were not upholding the highest level of safety in our water vehicle, and we kept saying that we shouldn't tell Cindy. Yet one shouldn't underestimate the true power of Cindy. I knew as soon as we started saying, "Don't tell Cindy" that we would of course confess all to Cindy at the earliest moment possible. That's just Cindy's way. She's the kind of person who makes you want to immediately tell all.

So now, after saying all day that we wouldn't tell Cindy about our minor indescretions, I'm coming clean. I'm telling Cindy.