Tomorrow, my 15-year-old “baby” leaves for six weeks of summer fun at a sleepaway camp that I attended when I was his age. I am, at once, bursting with pride and feeling nostalgic as we pack his suitcase – plus, I feel lonely for him already. As we have been preparing for his departure, I’ve been thinking a lot about the first time he went off to camp. He was eight years old (I know, he was very young… it was his idea, not mine!). I recall asking him why he wanted to go away. I suppose…...
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