Shorthand for glamorous camping; luxury camping.
So, we went camping. Every time I pack the family and head to the lake for a few days, I come home with the same thought – my parents were saints. Also, crazy. There’s no other way to explain spending the night at the lake, much less two or more nights in a row.
We got to the campground on Saturday and began setting up the tent. We’ve gotten it down to a science and it really only took about 30 minutes. So far, so good! JD got the boat in the water, we found a place to secure the dog, the coolers were full – life was good. After a few hours on the water, we cooked dinner – (hotdogs) played a few rounds of bridge and at least one person enjoyed an adult beverage.
Then it got dark, REALLY dark, and we realized we hadn’t brought a lantern. Rookie mistake. With nothing else do do, we went to bed. At 9:45 pm. Do you know how LOUD it is outside at night? It’s like the nocturnals are throwing a party and they don’t care WHO knows it. I finally fell asleep about 11 for all of an hour before my stomach woke me up screaming “YOU ATE A HOTDOG!” Oh, yeah. For some reason, I forgot that whenever I eat a hotdog, I throw up. Without fail, every single time. You’d think that would be the kind of information I’d remember, but no. So I got up, not once, but TWICE, to stumble around in the dark and find a place to puke. Then I got up a third time to go to the bathroom because I’m old and the bathroom was a million miles away. The point is, I got no sleep. But my stomach wasn’t the only issue.
When we were packing for the trip, JD pulled out all of the blow-up beds that we own – 8. He blew them all up and found two that seemed to hold air. Moon had a cot, so we brought the two queen beds, blew them both up, stacked them, and went to bed confident that we’d at least be off the ground. HAHAHAHA! Of COURSE, they both deflated so that JD and I ended up rolled into the middle like we were sleeping on a rubber, taco bed. You can see why I was ready to go home the next morning. But then this happened:
You think you’re out, and they drag you back in!
Who can resist the happy smile of a child?
No one, apparently.
One thought on “Glamping It Ain’t”
Camping is so much fun when you are young. You don’t have to cook, worry about packing, unpacking, expense and the beds don’t feel so hard. I don’t even like to pass over the lake on a bridge now.