In Case I Get Eaten by Bears

22 07 2011

This afternoon I’m going camping.

Some of you think that sounds fun. I, however, fall firmly on the side of “people who have the good sense to love electricity and hot water.”


Car and I have been camping twice in our 14 years of marriage. Both times were with groups, and both times involved me bursting into tears. This really makes me question the logic involved in his continuous campaign to convert me to the Church of the Great Outdoors. It’s not that I don’t like nature—really, it’s quite pretty and I enjoy looking at it and even walking through it—it’s just that come nightfall, I have a relatively bug-free abode complete with a soft mattress and a flushing toilet mere steps away!

I have to tell you about the second time we went camping, because I blame much of the misery on Car. The terror of our first camping expedition was still fresh in my mind when he suggested we camp with his family, so obviously I refused.

“It’s a little piece of land my family owns,” he told me, “and there’s even a little cabin that we can sleep in.”

Wait. A cabin? Okay, I thought, I can handle a cabin.

Lovely readers, you and I know that there are many definitions of the word “cabin,” but I want to impress upon you that under no circumstances did this structure ever qualify as a cabin. It was a shed. A cobweb-filled, spider-infested shed. Then someone in his family handed me a screaming baby. At that point I started praying for a bear to drag me into the woods, but that obviously didn’t happen so now I’m going camping in a few hours.

People, I must love this man past the point of sanity because when he announced (for the billionth time) he wanted to go camping as a family, I finally got online and reserved the frickin’ campsite. I suppose that means if I die of West Nile or some Deliverance-style hillbillies kidnap me (we are going to Payson, after all) I have nobody to blame but myself.

At least I won’t have to go camping again.

*I have informed Car that this whole “family camping” thing is only going to happen while the boys are young. As soon as they’re old enough, camping will become father-son bonding time and mommy will have a spa getaway.

**Or possibly just a full night of rest.

***Remind me to tell you about camping with my college roommate and two guys. Spoiler: neither of the guys was into me.

****Spoiler #2: She came home with a tick in an area that was exposed when she peed in the bushes. It was my favorite part of the whole weekend.

*****I’m not a very nice person.

******But that’s totally why you love me, so we’re cool.

*******The WordPress Proofreader apparently thinks hillbillies are solitary creatures:



2 responses

22 07 2011

I love you. please don’t die.

22 07 2011

Be safe! You are so brave.

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