I Let My Friend Drive My 10-Year-Old Daughter to Summer Camp – A Few Hours Later, the Camp Administrator Called and Said, ‘I Think You Need to Come Here. It’s About the Man Who Brought Her’

“Yeah?”

“I knew sending that picture was wrong.”

I waited.

“I was just tired of always being the one going home upset.”

Her voice became softer.

“I wanted her to know what it felt like.”

I understood that anger.

But understanding it didn’t make her choice right.

“I get why you felt that way,” I said. “It still wasn’t okay.”

“I know.”

Another minute passed.

Then Greta looked at me.

“Next time, I’ll tell you.”

I didn’t give her a lecture.

I didn’t need to.

I reached over, squeezed her knee, and said,

“Good.”