I dropped my daughter off at summer camp this afternoon. In previous years, I've had a hard time with this act, more so than my daughter. This year was a little easier. I helped her set up her bunk in the cabin, got her registered, met her camp counselors, and then left.
It's going to be a very quiet week without my daughter around. This camp time always makes me appreciate her a little more. I miss her. However, I appreciate her confidence, her ability to feel comfortable in her own skin. She's much braver than I was at her age.
Maybe Saint Marty hasn't screwed up his kid as badly as he thinks.
Confessions of Saint Marty