Getting a kid ready for sleep-away camp is a full-time occupation! My 14-year-old’s camp checklist, the one I received with the 30-page parent handbook, looked like a department store inventory list. When did summer camp get so complicated? What happened to shorts, t-shirts, bug spray and a smile?

So far this week I purchased a yoga mat, which I bet my son never even unrolls, a waterproof watch, baseball mitt, two pairs of pajamas for a child who hasn’t worn two pieces to bed since he could (un)dress himself, and hiking boots – all on the endless list! It’s like a school supply list and holiday list combined – double the agony!

I made the mistake of taking my extremely excited, first-time sleep-away camper to Wal-Mart today for round two of “the list.” “We’re here for specific things,” I warned my son as his eyes grew proportionately to the amount of merchandise we passed. “Stick to the list,” I added for emphasis as I waved the paper holy grail for effect.

“Mom, how ‘about this?” “Don’t you think I need extra?” “PLEASE, this is SO cool!” rang in my ears for about 90 minutes while we walked up and down the aisles, and down and up the aisles and back again.

“It’s not on the list,” I repeated like a robot programmed with a single phrase. “It’s not on the list,” echoed in my head like an involuntary mantra.

Finally, the list had only a few items that remained unslashed and I surrendered to the fact that a day three of camp shopping to round up those last pesky items was a given. I’m already wondering how we’re going to pack what we have in two duffle bags (also on the list!). And, what are the chances my son is going to come home with HALF these things? I may be even more afraid of those things that do find their way home! Can you say MILDEW?

My husband assures me it will all be worth it. My parents couldn’t afford summer camp, but hubby went several summers for eight weeks. He still regales us with tales of something called “Color War” and midnight raids on the girl’s bunks. He claims it was the best summers of his youth.

So, if that’s the case, and my son has the time of his life, I guess I can forgive the month-long preparations, the shopping marathons, the two and a half irretrievable hours I spent writing my son’s name on EVERY item from the infamous list , and even the long separation from my (forever to me) baby.

If he has the time of his life, I may frame the list. Kind of like a trophy to inspire me – and remind me to shop online next summer.