what does it even mean to miss someone by their hair

Last week I went to Girls' Camp.  We had flushing toilets and showers, and it was so much better than dirt camping.  When I was little we were always going camping and woodcutting with my mom's side of the family.  There were never bathrooms and you just had to wander to a private area away from camp, collect some soft leaves, and do your dirty business over the side of a fallen log or something.  I didn't really mind it then, and I would still probably prefer that to an outhouse, but I am old enough now that a real bathroom is pretty important to me.  Anyway, the second afternoon we sent the girls off to read their letters from their moms, and two of them found a decent-sized rattlesnake.  Thankfully our camp director's husband was there, and he is a mountain man deluxe edition who trains dogs to hunt bears and mountain lions (he just takes pictures of them; his reasoning is that if people kill all the bears and mountain lions there won't be any left to hunt, and then what is he supposed to do with his dogs? I like this approach), and he tromped off into the weeds with the shovel and soon found the snake and dispatched it and buried the head.  It was a very exciting time for everyone.  Thankfully none of the girls fought and there was no crying or meanness.  Our testimony meeting was only about a 2 on the bizarre/awkward/inappropriate scale.  Pretty much it was a terrific success and I'm looking forward to next year. 

I had the kids sort all their clothes so we have at least a vague idea of how many shirts, pants, socks and underwear they have before we go school shopping.  They never use their drawers and all their stuff just lives on the floor and travels up and down the stairs every week, being washed over and over again without being worn because they're too lazy to differentiate their clean and dirty piles.  Where do they get that from?  I'm sure I don't know.