That 'Harry Potter'-inspired camp in Texas for adults only? We say it's a magical idea

Yer not a wizard, Harry. You can pretend to be one, but if you're over the age of, say, 21, waving a wand around and shouting Latin words at feathers might get you some looks.

Imagination shouldn't be limited to children, though. I'm a firm believer in the idea that adults should take time to devote themselves to arts and crafts, embrace childlike wonder and enjoy games. Everybody is eventually old enough for fairy tales again.

Which is why I was excited to see the news that central Texas has its own three-day, Harry Potter-inspired retreat debuting later this month.

Worthwich School of Witchcraft and Wizardry's Wizarding Weekend, happening Oct. 27-29 at the Parrie Haynes Ranch in Killeen, sounds like an awesome day camp for kids -- with the catch that it's exclusive to people age 21 and older. "Students" will be sorted into one of four houses (presumably not the official Hogwarts houses, though), make wands and take classes on subjects like defensive magic, flying and potions. Houses will compete in "our favorite flying sport" (which I assume is WizBats, their "not Quidditch"), watch movies and more.

It's pricey (around $400 per ticket), and I can't vouch for Worthwich's worth (it could end up being the Fyre Festival of Wizarding Camps, for all we know), but the core idea is awesome.

Sure, we adults have opportunities to get away for kid-free weekends, but those trips can be stuffy (or, worse, be attached to business responsibilities). How often do you actually have a chance to go back to camp, to try to rekindle some of that feeling of being a kid again? If you tell me there's a chance to get back the good vibes of those days without the horrible acne and with social awkwardness? I'm in.

(No, Vegas does not count as camp. That trip can be more stressful than relaxing if the chips don't fall your way.)

Whether Worthwich's weekend retreat is actually magical or not, I applaud the effort to remind everybody that you don't have to stop playing make-believe when you grow up.