So… just one story from the camping
trip re the first night.
We arrive there an I am really tired as I still have zero stamina. I can’t wait to crawl in bed and get a good night sleep. I arrange the bedding on my comfy air mattress, get out my little battery operated fan and my trusty oh so soft pillow and snuggle in for the night. Now this is camping! And then I realize there is a hole in my mattress. I also learn something brand new about myself. I learn which part of my body is the, how shall I say… most substantial. So, with my butt in the gravel and my feet and head skyward I am now forming a perfect “V,” and am pretty much stuck that way. Not feeling very “V” for victorious as I flail about trying to extricate myself, I pause to contemplate (re get my breath) what my new found position might represent. Perhaps “V” for Very Uncomfortable, as I can’t think of any V words that mean pathetic. Moments later I realize my V shape is vastly preferred over my present state as at this point the rest of the air is gone from my mattress and my entire body is now resting on a bed of rocks.
So I gracefully struggle into a sitting position, sort of like a beached whale attempting gymnastics. The rest of my family is all still somehow sleeping peacefully… or at least pretending to. I look past them through one of the tent windows and notice the car. I’ve slept in that car many times whilst waiting for assorted children and decide I can certainly and gladly make it through the rest of the night there tonight. So I gather up my pillow and a blanket and make my way to the tent door where my journey abruptly ends. I cannot figure out how to get the door open. Every zipper I pull, every handle I tug produces nothing more than opening and closing a screen window. And though the bugs don’t seem to be having any problems with exiting and entering through it, I’m just not going to fit.
So finally I wake up Gregg. He offers me his mattress, but I tell him I’ll just sleep in the car. He opens the tent door and I scramble out and to the car. It is calling my name. Sweet sleep. And then I open the car door and fumes from the camp stove, apparently stored there after super, nearly knock me over. Deciding sleeping in the car might bring about a longer sleep than I was looking for, I trudge back to the tent and eyeball my crumpled piece of plastic “mattress.” At this point Gregg proves he is THE best (and certainly wisest) husband IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD and gives me his bed. He ended up sleeping on an exercise mat rummaged from the trunk of the car that resembled a piece of corrugated cardboard, only not as cushy. He curled up on it and was asleep in five minutes. UNbelievable.
We arrive there an I am really tired as I still have zero stamina. I can’t wait to crawl in bed and get a good night sleep. I arrange the bedding on my comfy air mattress, get out my little battery operated fan and my trusty oh so soft pillow and snuggle in for the night. Now this is camping! And then I realize there is a hole in my mattress. I also learn something brand new about myself. I learn which part of my body is the, how shall I say… most substantial. So, with my butt in the gravel and my feet and head skyward I am now forming a perfect “V,” and am pretty much stuck that way. Not feeling very “V” for victorious as I flail about trying to extricate myself, I pause to contemplate (re get my breath) what my new found position might represent. Perhaps “V” for Very Uncomfortable, as I can’t think of any V words that mean pathetic. Moments later I realize my V shape is vastly preferred over my present state as at this point the rest of the air is gone from my mattress and my entire body is now resting on a bed of rocks.
So I gracefully struggle into a sitting position, sort of like a beached whale attempting gymnastics. The rest of my family is all still somehow sleeping peacefully… or at least pretending to. I look past them through one of the tent windows and notice the car. I’ve slept in that car many times whilst waiting for assorted children and decide I can certainly and gladly make it through the rest of the night there tonight. So I gather up my pillow and a blanket and make my way to the tent door where my journey abruptly ends. I cannot figure out how to get the door open. Every zipper I pull, every handle I tug produces nothing more than opening and closing a screen window. And though the bugs don’t seem to be having any problems with exiting and entering through it, I’m just not going to fit.
So finally I wake up Gregg. He offers me his mattress, but I tell him I’ll just sleep in the car. He opens the tent door and I scramble out and to the car. It is calling my name. Sweet sleep. And then I open the car door and fumes from the camp stove, apparently stored there after super, nearly knock me over. Deciding sleeping in the car might bring about a longer sleep than I was looking for, I trudge back to the tent and eyeball my crumpled piece of plastic “mattress.” At this point Gregg proves he is THE best (and certainly wisest) husband IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD and gives me his bed. He ended up sleeping on an exercise mat rummaged from the trunk of the car that resembled a piece of corrugated cardboard, only not as cushy. He curled up on it and was asleep in five minutes. UNbelievable.
