Dear Mom and Dad,
It’s only been a few days since you dropped me off, but you better come get me.
I’m writing to you with some paper and a pencil I borrowed, because the camp director confiscated my iPhone for watching funny dog videos during her “Camp Inclusion and Behavioral Expectations” speech.
By the way, what is “unsanctioned screen time aggression?”
Well, after she took my phone, she made me tell everyone my pronouns. When I said I prefer “they,” she asked me why.
I said “they” was more likely to get me extra dessert servings in the dining hall.
Boy, did that make her mad. She wanted to know if Daddy is a Republican.
By then, I was feeling homesick. I found a piece of wood and began carving a flute with the Swiss Army knife Grandpa gave me.
Well, one of the counselors yelled at me to “freeze.” He confiscated my knife, then marched me off to the camp director.
She said who did I think I was, bringing an instrument of pain and destruction into a weapon-free zone?
The next day, Billy Johnson and I got bored, so we went into the woods to play army. We turned a couple of branches into guns and made bullet noises as we fought the bad guys.
Sure enough, we were marched off to the director. She said the reason there’s so much war in the world is because boys like us are taught to “celebrate” it from an early age.
At that point, I figured I better keep my head down. But I got into trouble at lunch. Just as I was thanking God for my blessings — just as I whispered “Grace” to myself — I was carted off to the director again.
She wanted to know who I thought I was trying to impose my religious beliefs on others. She said my actions showed how “ignorant” and “insensitive” Americans are to other cultures.
By the way, what is “jingoistic?”
Believe it or not, things got even worse from there. The next day, we were weaving baskets. I was sitting next to Mary Allison, the prettiest girl I ever saw.
“Mary,” I said, “you’re so pretty, you make my eyes hurt!”
Sure enough, that got me another trip to the director’s office. The director said I really crossed the line this time. She said my behavior was not only “boorish” but that I broke four of her camp’s zero-tolerance sexual harassment rules.
By the way, who is Harvey Weinstein?
I was really uptight by that point. But I was able to forget about it the next day when we played kickball.
I kicked the ball really far and I got a grand slam. I was so happy I said, “We win! We win!”
That got me another trip to you know where. This time the director said I hurt the “self-esteem” of the other players — that there’s no place in the world anymore for reckless, aggressive boys like me.
By the way, what is Ritalin?
I don’t know how long this letter will take to reach you in the mail, but you better come get me.
We’re going on a hike in the woods tomorrow, and I already picked some flowers to give to Mary Allison.
Your son,
Tommy
Find Tom Purcell’s syndicated column, humor books and funny videos of his dog, Thurber, at TomPurcell.com. Email him at Tom@TomPurcell.com.
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