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.