We are in Cleveland on the final leg of our “vacation”, which has included six states, five ballparks, four colleges, three museums, two countries and one Wonder of the World.
I am anxious to write about baseball, family bonding, and of course, to describe our two college drive-throughs.
But first I must disclose that CJ is no longer traveling with us.
Two days ago he received a text from a friend asking if he planned on attending a giant camp reunion scheduled for tonight in Malibu. A creature of habit, he had attended the same camp for eight summers, starting when he was eight and culminating with a leadership program two years ago. His lifelong friends and counselors, who somehow had received advance notice of this gathering, would be flying in from all over the country to attend.
CJ asked (nicely) if he could go home a day early, even though the Indians are his favorite team (he was brainwashed at an early age by an old babysitter’s boyfriend). He’s an upbeat kid who never whines or sulks, but he did seem terribly unhappy to miss the evening. He said he would pay a change fee and basically be our slave for the rest of the summer if we let him fly back to LA a day early.
As a neurotic parent, I assumed it was my fault that he had not heard about the reunion. I probably had received something in the mail a month ago that remained unopened at the bottom of a pile of college brochures. (But I have since found out that no adult has laid eyes on a formal invitation to the event.)
So, feeling guilty, we caved and allowed CJ to fly home from Detroit this morning without us. He is now sitting around a campfire 2500 miles away. And the rest of us are recovering from an iconic American vacation day (3.5 hours of driving, 3.5 hours at the Rock & Roll Hall of fame, 3.5 hours of baseball).
Three of us playing cards in a hotel room: Is this a foreshadowing of what family life will be when CJ heads off to college?