Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah
My youngest is away at camp, but I am getting photos of her every day over the Internet. There’s a “camp photographer” snapping photos of the kids and several dozen are uploaded every night. In the morning, I scroll through, looking for signs that my daughter is happy, uninjured and making friends.It’s not the same as when I went away to Camp Blue Bay Girl Scout Camp. Back then, my parents couldn’t see that my hair was a mess and I hadn’t eaten anything more than a dozen some-mores at a campfire. Now, parents can see all – which means I write back messages like, “Did you lose your comb, dear?” Ah. The freedom of summer camp – curtailed by modern technology!
