The first few months after you come home, you find always yourself saying “Never mind, it’s a camp thing”.

Whenever someone mentions a city they visited your first response is, "Oh, I have a friend that lives there!"

Part of you still thinks you might marry that boy from the Fourth of July dance (even though you haven’t talked to him since you were 13).

There’s arbitrary points awarded to the places you’ve peed or the elbows you licked, and sometimes you forget when you’re back in civilization that peeing on things doesn’t make you cool here.

If you could pick any way to spend a three-day weekend, you’d go on a road trip to your nearest camp friend’s hometown.

You know more card games than you can count.

You’re proud of how long you can go without shaving your legs, even during the school year.

You know the words to Taylor Swift’s songs so well, you might as well have written them yourself.

You have approximately 20 shoe boxes in your closet filled with letters.

You know how to fit over 10 people into one top bunk.

Waking up early for a sunrise hike is easy-peasy. Waking up at 7 a.m. for school? Not so much.

For you, Christmas in July is even better than real Christmas.

You know a song for every situation. Seriously. There’s a song for everything. Someone got murdered by their fiance on the day they were supposed to get married? There’s a song for that.

You wear your chaco, watch and PFD tans like a badge of honor.

You may not know the people your camp friends are telling stories about, but you get good at pretending like you do anyway.

You probably love the mountains, the rolling hills, the flowers, the daffodils and the fireside when all the lights are low.

You are a culinary expert in s'mores, dough boys and anything that can be cooked on a camp stove.

A friendship bracelet made for you by a younger camper is more precious than diamonds.

Your non-camp friends never understand why all your summer clothes have your name written in them.

Half your summer clothes aren’t even yours. It’s not your fault you brought home the wrong pair of white shorts. Everyone has the same ones!

Grandpa sweaters, “sockos,” Goodwill T-shirts, flannels and overalls are all high-fashion to you.

You can not see someone for 11 months and still be able to call them your best friend.