I’ve been looking for my child lately. Not Emma. My outer child is now 15, which is the perfect age...
I’ve been looking for my child lately. Not Emma. My outer child is now 15, which is the perfect age to dye your entire head of hair purple. Which she has done. She’s a lot easier to find at the pool.
No, the one I’m looking for is me, my inner child, the little dude I used to be. And the Michigan Recreation and Park Association wants to help. It’s running a summer camp for adults at YMCA Camp Timbers in West Branch, Michigan. Apparently the only criteria are the following:
• You need to be over 21.
• You need to be able to pay the $200.
I definitely have the first part down.
Anyway, Camp Kitigin sounds like just what I need. For one, it’s a “screen-free” event, which means totally open windows and an all-you-can-eat buffet for mosquitoes. Just kidding. That’s what it would have meant when I was a kid. Now, of course, it means no phones, tablets, or computers (except for emergencies and after-dinner family check-ins). Instead, I’ll “rediscover” how to play. There’s going to be canoeing, night hikes, crafts, and sing-alongs. I’m totally down with that.
Some of the other activities worry me a bit. Like high ropes. I can only think of three things that that describes, and they involve drugs, bungee jumping, or zip lines. Possibly all three. So count me out for high ropes.
Also worrisome, “team- and confidence-building exercises.” My inner child—as near as I can remember—was not a team player and had no aspirations in that direction. And confidence-building sounds like that old corporate training trick where you take turns putting on a blindfold and then—in a show of trust and confidence—fall backward into the arms of people who are supposed to catch you but instead don’t, gleefully calling, “Fake out!” and high-fiving each other while you look for a bandage for your head.
Come to think of it, that sort of confidence-building exercise is exactly how the stock market operates. And we all know how that usually turns out.
So maybe I won’t go.
Photo by vastateparksstaff