As camp winds down and summer starts to wane, I know that parents are super excited to welcome their children home. As a parent, I know that we miss them when they’re gone… and yet sometimes their return – after the first flush of homecoming – can be a little confusing.

Are you really the child who set and cleared the cabin table, put away her clothes, did his cabin cleanup chore daily, got herself to five different activities every day with all the right equipment? And didn’t (hardly) talk back?

Camp sends you home this model child, (we hope!) who is resourceful, independent, flexible and helpful. Two weeks later, not so much. By the time school starts, it seems all that independence and resourcefulness has gone the way of summer’s breezes.

Why? And can you do something about it? Yes you can – if you behave more like a camp counsellor. Which is a tall order for a parent. It’s difficult because our parental DNA seems to predispose us to do for our kids. Do what? Everything! And kids can smell that in the air like a skunk in the neighbourhood. Would you clean the kitchen or make your bed if you knew somebody was going to do it for you? I wouldn’t, and I don’t. That’s human nature.

Same with your kids.

Did you notice the word cabin appeared twice in the second paragraph of this article? That’s because the cabin is the group that’s counting on your child to do all that good stuff. The cabin group does not function well if everyone doesn’t poll their weight at chore time, or if someone is always late, making the group wait for them. This sense of obligation is key to kids taking responsibility.

Let me tell you a story about my son Max. He is currently 27 years old and happily settled with a fabulous partner, but before that, Max cut quite a swath. He has an apron that says on it: “Will cook for sex.” Max learned to cook at age 7, because I said, every night before dinner: “Would you prefer to cook or clean up?” He would say “neither.” Max was not an easy child.

I then would say: “That’s okay, I’m not that hungry anyway. We don’t need dinner.” Experts call this logical or natural consequences. You can see the connection between this and camp: The cabin (aka the family) cannot function without everyone pulling their weight.

Of course Max would then decide to heave himself off the couch, and he always chose cooking over cleaning. Which became a habit after about a week, thus obviating the need for me offering consequences. And producing the boy who could cook pretty much anything.

Kids take responsibility (as do adults and other creatures) when they have something at stake. When it matters. If they know we’ll do it for them, if they know we’ll nag a while and then give up, they can sit us out every time. If you nag them to remember their books for school, or their skates for hockey, or to clear the table or do their homework, they’ll sit back. If you let it go and don’t do it (or nag them to do it, in the case of homework) they get that it matters.

They excel at playing the long game, so you have to really mean it when you set up a situation where their taking of responsibility will influence something. You have to be willing to let it matter, and have the patience to wait them out…. and let them succeed… or fail. That’s what it takes to get their skin in the game.