Ezra is attending swim camp at the YMCA this week and next.
(After that it's Noah's turn — I've discovered that if I keep the numbers down to only two children at home at a time, preferably one child who I can make "nap" at some point and one child who I can send to a neighbor's house, I get approximately 1,000% more work done than if I have all three, for a fraction of the cost of sending all three to separate camps. MATHS!)
When I picked him up yesterday, one of the counselors casually remarked, "Oh, Ezra? Yeah, we call him Master around here now."
"Why do you call him Master?" I asked.
He shrugged. "I dunno. Because he's just...the Master. You know?"
Okay then. Makes sense to me.