Summer Baggage  

Confused parents submit their questions:

Every summer, my usually happy, content child feels utterly inadequate when every one of her bunkmates, without exception, is shipped refrigerator boxes stuffed with food and prizes on a daily basis. She never exaggerates so I assume these stories are correct. I don’t believe in giving in to peer pressure, but I also want my daughter to feel as special as the other package getters. (That’s not peer pressure, that’s love.) So what do I do?

If it’s food packages your daughter seeks, we happen to know of several institutions distributing just that. Avoid having to send out the “Anyone want an 8lb tube of ground turkey?? and 16 avocados and 45 milks???” text you usually do on Thursday afternoons and send that box straight up to camp. Everyone’s a winner. In fact, several mosdos in a certain city got their hands on an advance copy of this column and decided that they should take advantage of this food-package-to-child pipeline. Rumor has it they have built an express railroad from Lakewood to Monticello for efficiency’s sake, so book your box a seat before it’s stacking room only.

My kid left home, a nerdy, low maintenance angel with zero hasagos. She waltzed back after four short weeks asking for a Popit duffle bag and pillow set. How do I get my shy dweeb back? What’s a Popit? And how could you sleep on it?

You could always keep your daughter home for the summer where she’ll be exposed to no negative influences, ask for no narishkeit, and ruin her ability to make friends forevermore. If that won’t work, kick the can down the road on this trend and say a kapitel that the Popit pillowcase craze will blow over quickly and that the next hot thing is something cheap, like a pet seashell. And if you have to ask what a Popit is, maybe invest a little time in learning the trends so you can not only decide which ones are worth an argument, but invent the next big thing and set your future doros up for full support.