There are some things at camp you can always count on.

Someone will forget shower shoes. Someone will get way too competitive during capture the flag. Someone will cry on the last night of camp after knowing everyone for exactly twelve days.

And somehow, every single summer, multiple pairs of sunglasses completely vanish from the face of the earth.

Not misplaced. Not temporarily lost.

Gone.

After six years at camp, first as a camper and now as a counselor, I’ve realized sunglasses seem to operate under completely different laws once they enter camp grounds. They don’t just get lost in normal ways. Nobody simply leaves them in a cabin or drops them under a bed.

No. At camp, sunglasses disappear with stories attached to them.

The first one I ever remember witnessing happened down at the lake during canoe instruction. One camper had arrived that morning with brand-new sunglasses still sitting perfectly stiff on their face like they’d come straight out of the packaging. About ten minutes into getting into the canoe, they casually rested the sunglasses on their knee while adjusting a paddle.

A tiny wave rocked the canoe.

We all watched the sunglasses slide off in slow motion and sink directly into the lake without a trace.

There was complete silence for a solid five seconds before the camper looked up and said:

“Wait… sunglasses don’t float?”

Apparently not.

The lake has claimed many pairs since then.

Then there was the Slip ’N Slide incident, which honestly should have been preventable. Every counselor had already warned everyone at least three times to remove hats, sunglasses, and anything they didn’t want launched into another dimension.

One camper decided the sunglasses were “part of the look.”

Halfway down the slide, they hit a bump so aggressively the sunglasses flew off their face and disappeared into the grass somewhere near the volleyball court. One lens turned up three days later. The rest never did.

To this day, I genuinely think the camp lawn swallowed them whole.

But nothing - absolutely nothing compares to the raccoon story.

One evening during dinner, a camper left their sunglasses on a picnic table while grabbing food from the buffet line. Totally normal. Nobody thought twice about it.

Then someone yelled.

And suddenly everybody turned just in time to see a raccoon sprinting across camp carrying the sunglasses in its mouth like it had planned the robbery for weeks.

The raccoon disappeared into the woods.

The sunglasses were never recovered.

Somewhere out there is a raccoon with incredible UV protection and unbelievable confidence.

Of course, not all sunglasses disappear dramatically. Some just slowly become victims of camp chaos.

During one session, a camper accidentally spent nearly an entire week wearing somebody else’s sunglasses because they genuinely thought they were their own. Same color. Same shape. Same cheap camp-store brand. Nobody noticed until the actual owner stared at them during lunch and quietly said:

“Those are literally mine.”

At that point, honestly, the sunglasses had already chosen a new life.

And then there are the stories that sound fake even when you watched them happen.

One summer during blob launch at the lake, a camper got sent airborne hard enough that their sunglasses flew off midair and vanished entirely. Not into the water. Not onto the dock. Just… gone.

People searched for them for an embarrassingly long time.

It became one of those camp legends counselors still bring up years later:

“Remember those sunglasses that entered the atmosphere?”

Camp has a weird way of turning tiny things into unforgettable memories.

Nobody remembers what day they lost their sunglasses. But they always remember how.

They remember sprinting barefoot across a field at sunset. Falling out of canoes laughing too hard to paddle properly. Diving into lakes fully clothed because everybody else did too.

And somewhere in the middle of all that chaos, sunglasses disappear.

Honestly, I think that’s probably a good sign.

Because if you’re having the kind of summer where you lose track of your sunglasses, your schedule, and occasionally your voice from yelling too much during campfire songs, you’re probably doing camp right.

So if you’re bringing a fresh pair of Camp Sunnies this summer, here’s my advice:

Wear them everywhere.
Take photos in them.
Bring them to the lake.
Bring them to color games.
Just maybe… don’t trust them around raccoons.