My only claim to fame as a mother of a camper is the care package I send every year. Some mothers lovingly bake cookies, find lovely treats, send notes and cards and send e-mail through the system where you pay to e-mail your child, less they forget you are still hovering over them and interfering with all of their fun. I drop my child, after being made to wait for the bus to leave, and head to China Town. I head into Owajima and spend about an hour finding a nice variety of items. Packages with little dancing fish and bears in brightly colored wrapping dancing on the surface and no food label are my favorite. I fill a box of such treasures and off it goes. I figure most of it is fed to the raccoons.
I don't ever send the really really bad stuff. I should just for fun. the picked fish heads, the toasted tiny fish skeletons and other such mysteries. It could be a fun fun package if I could imagine some sort of consumption and not just screeches from the girls.
I am just so glad she is at camp. This is her favorite thing. She is coming back to unhappy but necessary "procedures". Her summer will end August 10th. Surgery on both legs to lengthen her calf muscles. More later. It is too YUCK to think about today.
Today I am thinking about gummy weird candy that no one can identify.
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