Remember summer camp? The smell of sunscreen and pine needles. Counselors who were barely older than you, acting like they had it all figured out. Swimming lessons at the town pool, where you finally stopped being afraid to jump off the diving board. The ice cream truck making its lazy rounds through the neighborhood, that tinny melody you could hear from two blocks away.
Remember Mister Rogers telling you that you were special, just the way you are? Kermit the Frog strumming his banjo, a little wistful, a little hopeful, singing about rainbows?
