Sunday, July 7, 2013

Summer Camp

My sweet-faced daughter is at camp and I miss her. I send her a letter every second day and get none in return. This is the way I like it. Getting letter from your kid at camp is like that day on Survivor near the end where you get a visit from your family: it just makes you realize how bad you miss them. The major difference at our house, however, is that unlike those on Survivor people, the rest of us will not end up stabbing each other in the back the moment our family member has left the island. We just don't roll like that. I guess that means that we aren't ready for prime time. I can live with that.

I do have a ton of time to read, write and spend time with my son who sees my daughter's two weeks at camp as the ultimate vacation. He can sleep in and his life is peaceful, easy and sister-free. When I ask him if he would like me to add a line to the letters I write he usually rolls is eyes until I can see the white parts. Then he tells me to tell her that he got a tattoo. That's usually when I sigh and make something up.

This year, I packed her a book that she loved. It was called, P.S. I Hate it Here. It is a book of letters that kids wrote to their parents while at summer camp. Some are good. Some bad. Most are hilarious.

Here is a sample:

And another....

See what I mean?

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