This year, I decided she was going to camp.
I picked up weekend shifts.
Dorothy started cooking extra meals for me so I could eat between jobs.
This year, I decided she was going to camp.
One night she found me half asleep at the kitchen table with the camp payment page open.
“You don’t have to do this,” she said.
“Yes, I do.”
“Rebecca.”
“She’s been asking for three years.”
Dorothy sat across from me.
“She’ll understand.”
That was the problem.
Mia always understood.
“She’s been asking for three years.”
So I worked four extra Saturdays and two Sundays.
And when I finally showed her the paid registration email, she screamed so loudly Dorothy came running with a wooden spoon in her hand.
“Three weeks?” Mia shouted.
“Three whole weeks.”
She hugged me.
“Three whole weeks.”
Then she pulled away almost immediately.
“How much extra did you work, Mom?”
