Dropping the kids off for camp each year is a big event requiring weeks of preparation on my part to get everything labeled and tagged and in the right suitcases. My oldest has started packing herself and I have total faith that everything she needs to survive for two weeks is in there, or if it isn’t, she can’t blame me. In addition to packing, she spends several days getting herself ready. This year, she cashed in hard-earned baby- and dog-sitting money to get her nails done, she Koolaid-dyed her hair cherry red, her signature color, and carefully picked out her favorite outfits. As a beautiful 13-year-old, making a good impression is important to Ana.
We strolled into camp with a surge of other parents and campers for drop-off, her eyes searching the crowd, looking for friends and counselors. We stepped up to the registration desk and the camp photographer whipped out his camera to document the moment, but it wasn’t to capture her. As his lens zeroed in, it panned down, lowering to her baby sister, eight years old and adorable from head to toe. The registration staff gushed over Evie, assuming their sweetest widdle voices, “Are you soooo excited for camp this yearrrr?” they gushed at my little peanut, who ate up their attention. She assumed her most babyish voice, batted her eyes, dipped her head shyly, and answered, “Yes! Dis is my second yearrrr,” holding up two fingers as if she’d just learned how to count and didn’t in fact already know her entire multiplication tables.
She’s tiny and cute and you can’t compete with that. READ MORE