Until recently, my favorite camp letter story of this summer was from a friend who received this streamlined missive: “Dear Dad, This is a compulsory note. Love Max.” But the other day, my daughter, Elena, now 14, sent home a letter from camp with the most surprising suggestion for my wife and I. Clearly in a chatty mood, she told us all about her camp trip to the city—we weren’t allowed to see her—in which she did some charity work, some shopping, saw “Matilda” on Broadway (loved it), and also saw a free outdoor movie one night in Riverside Park. She loved that experience so much, she thought to mention how “romantic” a setting it was—and how my wife and I would enjoy seeing a movie there.
Believe me, this may well the first time in her life that my daughter has connected the concept of romance with her parents. Normally, we seem to be such great embarrassments to her. I suspect, even more than thinking about my wife and I, it’s our daughter who is beginning to have romance on the brain.
Eric Messinger is the editor of New York Family. He can be reached at [email protected].
