My little love, Maggie, has been at overnight camp for the last two weeks across the lake from our cottage.  I sent her lots of writing paper and envelopes to send me notes.  Pippa is at the same camp, but as a day camper.  I charged Pippa with picking up notes from Maggie daily.  She was also in charge or smuggling in contraband.  A candy here a soda there…all pretty tame.  I had my nephew, also a day camper, make sure that Maggie stayed safe and away from boys.  Pippa’s best friend was on hygiene patrol:  braces clean and hair brushed.  It was an intense mission, but the kids loved it.

So every day Pippa brought me home a little note from her big sister.  The first day the note said she didn’t miss anyone at all.  Lovely.  Then the subsequent days, I would receive little bits of info.  Stuff about food, one about a cute boy, a few about a broken camera.  Then she went on an all-camp overnight trip off site.  The next day I received this:

In case you can’t read it…”the tramping trip was great.”  What the hell is a tramping trip?  Was my 11 year old daughter out tramping it up?  Drinking, wearing booty shorts and picking up boys?  I certainly hope not, but until I pick her up…my mind is running wild.  The daily letters might have been a bad idea.