So we’re going camping this weekend.
As in “sleeping-in-a-tent-by-the-light-of-the-moon” camping. This seemed like a good idea about 3 months ago when we signed up, now I’m starting to see my life flash before my eyes. We’re not typically campers. And by that, I mean that we don’t camp. At all. Ever. Even my husband (who can leap tall buildings in a single bound, and who I’m pretty sure could climb Mt. Everest with no training while wearing shorts and flip flops) has never camped. The only one of us in the entire family who has ever slept outside in a tent is me. Me. And that was way back in the day when all I had to do to prepare for camping was to grab my pillow, get in the back seat of the car, and complain about the long drive. I grew up camping. Loved it, loved it, loved it. Until one fateful weekend when my sister and brothers and I were all in our 20s and we decided to drive up to the mountains and camp on our own. We grabbed the old tent, a few sleeping bags, packed some snacks, and we were off. Big mistake. Holy crap, did it suck! It will forever be remembered as the camping trip that made us all hate camping (and wonder why we ever liked it to begin with.) First of all, who the hell can light a campfire? Not us, obviously. And omigod, there were SO many bugs! Like zillions and zillions of flying insects swarming around our heads at all times. It was awful and gross and inescapable. And then there were the chipmunks. I do not know WHAT happened in the years between then and now, but these chipmunks had balls of steel. In the old days we would sit there for hours trying to coax one of those cute little rodents to take a peanut out of our hands. Not anymore. These new and improved chipmunks were coming right up onto our picnic table as we were eating. Right up onto it! And they would actually take the food right off our plates. I tried to shoo one away and I swear I saw it give me the finger. We spent the better part of that first day running around the campsite screaming in horror. Needless to say, we had booked that campsite for the whole weekend and within 24 hours we were packed up and heading back to civilization.
And that was it…until now. Now there is a chance that I am voluntarily dipping my toe back into the pool of camping hell.
This time, I am not just unprepared…I am WOEFULLY unprepared. We borrowed a tent and a few air mattresses, but other than that we are pretty much screwed.
In the interest of full disclosure, however, the camping trip this weekend sounds like it is going to be perfectly fab. There are over 50 families from our town going, and that includes almost every single one of my amazingly awesome neighbors. Plus, from what I hear we are right down the street from a liquor store, so at least there’s that. It does kind of seem like this weekend almost has no way of NOT being awesome. I’m being cautiously optimistic. But still… 7 Butters in a tent? I don’t know how any good can come of that. I’ll keep you posted…