I Love Not Camping

This is the magnet on the side of my fridge.

I don’t come from a camping family. Growing up, our idea of roughing it was staying in a hotel without a pool. We didn’t rough it much.

Last weekend my hubby texted me. (Sadly, email and texting is just about our only way to have a quiet conversation – life is busy.) The text said, “Flowing Lake has a few open spots.  Want to go camping this weekend?”  Those of you who know me well, know that a question like that is a loaded question.  I would love to have seen the expression on my hubby’s face when he read my response, “Sure.  Sounds like fun.”

I think I have slept in a tent one other time in my life.  There are so many things I hate about camping.  Bugs, dirt, bathrooms (or lack of), bugs, dirt, bathrooms (or lack of) in the middle of the night, bugs, dirt, you get the idea.

So, why do I camp now, you ask? Well, I camp for my kids. I want them to know what it’s like to cook breakfast outdoors.

I want my kids to roast marshmallows over the fire and make s’mores.

I want a walk through the woods and a view of the lake to be our form of entertainment. 

I love the excited look on my kids’ faces when a bunny jumps out of the blackberry bushes for a late night snack.  (I guess I would have missed that if we didn’t have to walk so far to bathroom.)

And then, there’s the story of the one who got away – over and over and over again.  But in the end, we caught him. (Although we let him swim away with his friends, rather than eat him for dinner.  Fish are friends, not food.)

So, why camp?  I camp for these guys.  We are the sum of our experiences.  Our literacy lives depend on getting out of the house and doing, not just watching the lives of others on tv.  I have to say, I love not camping, but camping isn’t so bad after all.

Happy camping!

Here are a few linky parties I like to participate in.

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