When Oldest returned from his job as a camp counselor to four and five-year-olds (“They are not human beings. They are CREATURES!”) he found me smashing bananas and shredding bittersweet chocolate.
“What are you making?”
“What? You are making him banana bread? You’ve never sent me any home-baked goods!”
I didn’t say anything right away. I was too busy creating a long mental list of all the many care packages I have sent that boy’s way. But of course he is right. For some reason, the prospect of my son spending weeks at camp in Maine seems to lend itself to the creation of home made sweets while months in college send me shopping for specialty salamis, Sees candy and clothing.
Never think your children are not keeping score. Not for one minute.