Growing up, my parents never sent me to Sleepaway Camp. It just wasn’t part of our Italian-Catholic upbringing.
Instead all my cousins came over to our house and my grandmother watched us there.
What my wonderful Nunny was really watching was the OJ Simpson trial and Days Of Our Lives but she provided my mom with free child care which is nothing short of amazing and possibly the best gift a parent can give.
Other than education.
Which brings us to when my parents sent me to
NYU.
It seemed that all my new and fancy college friends had spent Summers at camp.
Complete with all the Summer Camp firsts: kisses, crushes, sneaking out, sneaking in…you get the picture.
The only Summer excitement I had was fresh donuts in the morning and visits to the public pool.
It made me more than a little jealous.
So you would think I would’ve jumped at the opportunity to do Summer Camp as an adult.
But when our friend Brian told us he was renting out an entire Camp in the mountains over Labor Day weekend I totally didn’t want to go.
Bunk beds? Weird.
Camp food? Gross.
Group Activities? No way.
Call it rebelling against what I had convinced myself I didn’t need and never had as a child.
But my husband convinced me it would be fun, so we went.
But it wasn’t just fun…it was amazing!
Three days to live out the whole camp experience.
Soup to nuts.
Ropes course, arts and crafts, archery, mountain biking, even a GIANT inflatable pool slide.
And since we aren’t actually 13 there were cocktails around our campfire:)
The people running the camp seemed more than a little confused by our group.
P.S. If you’re wondering why Emily is holding mad dolla billz in the above photo it’s cause we had all just paid our tabs to the Hendersons. She isn’t secretly a drug dealer. |
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