Aimed Outward

One of the quietest campers caught my attention last night. She’s a girl who tends to hang back a bit, who thinks about things before jumping right in. And yet there she was at our twilight event, a can of shaving cream in her fist, zooming across the landsports field and cackling as she fired her foam. A little later I saw her grinning as she sculpted a mohawk into her friend’s hair. Something about the whole ridiculous scene had swept her up completely. This was more than ordinary fun. This was exuberant fun, contagious, high-voltage joy spilling out everywhere.

If you’ve never seen one, the setup for a shaving cream fight is super simple. We ring the bell, the girls come pouring down to the landsports field in their swimsuits, and we hand out about a hundred and fifty cans of plain white foam. The music starts pumping. And then, with no instruction whatsoever, everyone knows exactly what to do. Spray it, smear it, plop a full handful right on top of someone’s head. Chase and be chased. Within five minutes there’s foam in everyone’s hair, on every back and shoulder, and the whole field is one big tangle of slippery, shrieking, laughing girls. It is loud, it is messy, and it is about as happy as a group of children can possibly be.

What makes a shaving cream fight so wonderful, though, is that it’s exuberance aimed outward. It’s not so much about covering yourself as it is about covering someone else. You sneak up behind a friend with a fat handful of foam, plant it squarely on her back, and tear off grinning, already bracing for the same in return. You spray, and get sprayed, and both halves are a delight. This is why a shaving cream fight requires other people. It requires pursuit and ambush, shrieks and retaliation, mischief mixed with generosity.

And when the whole group throws itself in at once, something special happens. The exuberance multiplies. Each girl’s silliness gives the next one a little more nerve, and the energy loops around the field, pulling in even the campers who arrived unsure. Nobody is keeping score, nobody is performing, nobody is left out. They are simply, completely, joyfully together. As a parent, this is exactly the kind of fun you hope your child gets to have— unguarded, generous, and shared with good friends.

It’s amazing what these girls can do together— even the quietest ones. All it took was one foamy evening at Rockbrook.