When I was in fourth grade, I remember my parents eagerly signing a consent form (without any hesitation) allowing me to take an overnight class trip with other students where we all went camping in the woods for three days and two nights. There later, cut off from civilization, all the kids and chaperones proceeded to discover and learn new things about life and of themselves.
Each night, everyone would sit around the campfire singing songs, playing games, and making smores. They all seemed to be having the time of their lives. And I hated every minute of it. Making matters worse, I thought I was going to die. I’m serious.