I’m sure you’ve all been checking daily to see if I’ve updated with the exciting conclusion to my camping story. Or possibly you’ve forgotten I wrote about camping at all. Either way, here it is!
Camping, Day 2
July 23, 2011
5:30 am Car: “Sounds like the birds are waking up.” Me: “Thank you, Captain Obvious.”
I’m cold. In July. This is not right. The air mattress has been slowly deflating throughout the night. Also, I’ve needed to pee for about 3 hours, but it was dark and very scary and the bears were probably waiting in the bushes for people with weak bladders. Shut up. It’s finally light enough to venture to the bathrooms on my own. On the way back I consider staying up to watch the sun rise, but then I remember I’m not a crazy person.
5:45 am Car is peeing in the bushes. Men suck. And there are other people awake on purpose. What the hell, crazy people? I’m going back to bed.
9:15 am Oh, hi. It’s still morning, right? While I was asleep Car took approximately 200 pictures of prairie dogs:
And a few of chipmunks:
9:30 am Little G threw one of the eggs on the ground. Hey, I wasn’t really that hungry.
9:45 am Just heard Car say to Big G, “Do you want to walk to the toilet, or just pee on a tree?” One guess which one Big G picked.
10:00 am I gave a change of clothes to Big G and sent him to the tent to change. He’s in there humming while he gets dressed. At least someone slept well last night.
10:10 am Car is pulling Judo moves on flies.
10:15 am Big G refuses to drink the Instant Breakfast he has every morning at home because it doesn’t taste the same. Key difference: I forgot to bring a straw. Ah, the deprivation involved in roughing it.
10:25 am Know what takes almost as long as inflating an air mattress? Boiling an omelet in a plastic bag. Related: I’m hungry.
11:40 am Finally finished breakfast and have been packing things up. While taking down the tent, Car and I have this exchange:
Car: “Let’s tip the tent on its side and shake out some of the dirt.”
Me: “ACK! BAT!”
Me, pointing sheepishly to the baseball bat he brought to beat down bears during the night, “You know, bat.”
Little G helps us carry things to the car, but some things are just too heavy.
11:50 am A deer just went loping through our campsite. Wow. Just…wow.
12:30 pm At the lake. Little G placed two feet in the water, then screamed to get out and refused to have anything more to do with it. Big G was hesitant, but soon warmed up to the idea of exploring the shallows.
1:30 pm Somewhere along the line Car missed the information handout that tells men when your kids are whining and your wife is crabby, it’s time to go home.
1:40 pm New plan: I’m sitting in the car with Little G, who’s stuffing his face with Doritos. Wait, scratch that. Now he’s staring forward with glassy eyes. He might be in some sort of preservative-induced coma.
Car and Big G are taking a walk around the lake.
1:50 pm It was a short walk, so now it’s time to make peanut butter sandwiches for the kids. I’ll be honest—I’d just as well give them chips and soda and hope they pass out until we hit a McDonald’s. I’m kind of done.6
3:00 pm We’re home! Big G, who managed (through Herculean effort) to stay awake on the drive home, is dead asleep on the couch. Little G slept for about 30 minutes, so he’s ready to party.
3:05 pm Car: “I don’t know if you feel it, but after I go camping, I feel relaxed and mellow.” Me: “That’s called exhaustion, honey.”
6:00 pm Oh, hi! Two hours still counts as a nap, right?
There you have it, friends. My complete camping experience. Sort of. Some of you will ask if I had fun. Umm…yes? It’s not exactly my regular definition of fun. In my world o’ fun, I can just go pee whenever I want without stressing about things that go bump (or roar, or chomp) in the night. But it was a bit of an adventure, the boys had a good time, and I love spending time with my family. So yes, it was fun. Just different fun.
Will I do it again? Well, you’ll just have to keep reading, won’t you?
*Edited to add a side view of the prairie dog to prove to my mother that I do actually know what a chipmunk is:
**Also edited to change “rink” to “drink” now that two people have felt the overwhelming need to point out my error. For the love of all that’s holy, folks. I’ve never claimed to be perfect. Go read 20 other personal blogs and then let me know how mine stacks up in the grammar and spelling categories. (I’m looking at you, Rachel!)
***It’s not that I don’t appreciate a heads-up when I make a mistake. But the gleefulness in Rachel’s comment was just rude.
****You hear me, Rachel? Now you’re dead to me and Mark will never sing at my funeral and it’s all your fault. I hope you’re happy with your superior little self.
*****For those of you wondering about the singing thing, before I went camping I called Rachel and told her if a bear ate me, her job was to put together a group to sing “Hard to Say Goodbye to Yesterday” by Boyz II Men at my funeral. She and her husband Mark were a little bummed when I returned unscathed.