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Over the weekend my daughter went on her first Brownie Camp in a rather nice hall in the woods near Newmarket.

It was the first time she would be away from home without any of her family, and as such it was a big occasion for us all. I remember my first cub camp when I was about 8, and just how home sick I was. I think I wanted my parents to come and pick me up and take me home, but I was allowed to phone them and then I think I was OK.

We dropped her off with 18 other little girls all excitedly clutching teddy bears for their teddy bear’s picnic. Rather than looking worried by her impending separation, she danced off with her little friends leaving us to chat to some of the other parents.

We decided not to hang around for long, but to make a run for it, we said out goodbyes and left. Ten seconds later she ran out from the building with a big smile on her face shouting goodbyes to us all, and then ran back inside.

On collection, she looked somewhat subdued like she was going to cry. I still don’t know whether this was with the emotion of seeing us again, or rather because she was sad to be leaving her friends.   She claimed she hadn’t missed us nor did she feel in any way home sick.  Good.  I guess.

She said she had a brilliant time cooking and washing up! She now wants to help with all the cooking and is begging to wash the dishes. Whatever happened in that hut is just short of miraculous, though I’m sure it can’t be so long lasting.