The perfect care package by the perfect…

My older son had his first experience at sleepaway camp last week—5 nights, at a camp I visited for over ten years in a row myself. I know the witchiest take on camp would have been to send him off and enjoy having 50% less kid in the house for a few days and not think of him at all, but I wanted to send him a care package. I remembered the excitement of hearing you had mail at camp—the anticipation of getting the package after lunch, of opening it, looking through the new stuff, and the satisfying feeling of getting things your camp friends also wanted to look at (my witchy friend Kate and I, still friends, bonded over Archie comics my mom sent me.)

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