In some ways, I think it's easy to "program" my daughter's weeks, because it's as if I'm programming for myself. A "princess camp" that features dress-up, tea parties, and dancing seemed like an obvious selection.
Unfortunately, Susie was expelled, because she isn't fully acquainted with the potty. I found this mortifying--but, also, the hushed, tense, public conversations (about "poopie" and "peepee") made me giggle. In Susie's "exit interview" paperwork, there was a space for "reason for departure." In that space, her mentor had simply drawn a little cartoon "sad face."
I'm secretly relieved to be done with princess camp, because I found myself in a philosophical conflict with the headmistress. She had "Moana" and "Frozen" on heavy rotation, and these are simply less-than-ideal. I'd like my daughter to move on to "Frankenweenie," "The Great Mouse Detective," and "Corpse Bride." Now, I see how certain parents must have felt in the 1970s. ("I'm writing these checks for Harvard, and you're skipping class to protest the war in Vietnam?")
It's unclear to me whether anyone has learned anything from this experience. I do know that Susie's brother--enraged by the uneven distribution of gifts--has started to demand his own chance to participate in a "Christmas camp." Who knows where this idea originated? The (fictional) camp sounds fun. When the subject arises, I laugh nervously, and I try to point out a nearby pedestrian, or an interesting tree.
Also, I'm still waiting on my refund from Professor Moana.
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