Church camp was the highlight of my summers. The one divine week all year, spiritually and socially. My daughter now goes and she, too, looks forward to it all year. 

I love the keen observation of your own memory - thick spaghetti, cold eggs, iceberg lettuce. You nailed that for me. So true. Also, watered-down Kool-aid.

This post also reminds me that my first husband and my huband neither one had camp experiences and as adults they've actually kind of mourned that loss. As one who did have them, I know how much they missed, and there is no way, as an adult, that these adventures can be created.