Visiting Day conjures up some baaaaaaad images for me. When I was 6,7 and 8 I attended a sleep-away camp where my mother was the nurse. Which meant that on Visiting Day, when everyone was brimming with anticipation about seeing their loooong loooost parents, it was business as usual for me.
I went along with being trotted about like a show pony for our esteemed guests. Sure my mom got to watch too, but since she hadn't spent the last twenty hours in a station wagon, driving to the Berkshires, it just wasn't the same.
And then that night when the other campers, desperately missing their parents, wailed, whined and whimpered with homesickness, I had to watch them get even more attention from the counselors.
I found it a suck, sucky, suckfest.
YOU, dear reader, can help me erase those awful memories by coming to visit me at Cocktails With Mom today.
Click on over.