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Once I camped
for a week on a beach in Greece.
A sleeping
bag on the sand. One dress, one skirt and three shirts...that
was all of my gear.
My food: all served at the cafe.
Turkish coffee. Fresh goat yogurt with a sprinkle of sugar for
lunch. Grilled fish.
My company: Gents with accents.
My activity: Topless bathing. As
much sun as I could stand.
I was single. Reading seemed taxing.
It was only natural that when I had
kids, I thought my family would enjoy camping.
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| Neighbors came out and waved
goodbye. They thought we were moving. |
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It took me years but finally I convinced
my husband to go camping with our four children who were then
all under the age of eight. I borrowed a tent and sleeping bags.
And then I started packing:
Tent, water bottles, clothes, diapers,
change of clothes, bathing suits, clothes for sun, clothes for
cold, mats, pillows, underwear, toothbrushes, pails, shovels,
mosquito repellent, suntan lotion, medical supplies, forks, knives,
hamburgers, cereal.
I even packed a nutcracker in case
we found walnuts in the woods.
You get the picture: I was prepared
for EVERY eventuality.
Kids do that to you.
I packed for 5 hours and 23 minutes
I was exhausted and we hadn't even
left.
One of my husband's outstanding talents
is his mastery of spatial relations: He fit everything into the
car.
Neighbors came out and waved goodbye.
They thought we were moving.
The minute we started driving, the
kids were hungry. Ever notice how they save their hunger for when
the food's not readily available?
I fed them pretzels, chips, apples
and bagels that I had tucked in my food bag. But they were still
hungry. Then the real eating began. A contortionist, I reached
from the front seat all the way over into the backy back and pulled
out salami sandwiches, humus and olives.
We had gone through breakfast and
lunch before we were 15 minutes down the highway.
Husband wanted his coffee, which
spilled on my pants.
We drove for what seemed like ten
hours. I was soggy for all of them.
Nobody took a nap.
It began to drizzle as we pulled
into the campground.
We scouted the campground. It was
nearly empty. Babes in the woods, we couldn't believe our good
fortune.
We found the perfect site, full of
tall trees with sweeping canopies.
We parked the car. We started unloading.
We spread out the tent. Then we realized
there were no stakes or poles.
We had no idea of how to put it up.
Suddenly the sky cracked open and
burst into torrential rains. The kids ran around getting soaked.
We got back in the car and listened
to the radio between the bursts of thunder. The news said the
rain would last for three days.
"Didn't you listen to the weather
report?" I asked my husband.
"Didn't you?"
We grimaced at each other. We were
ready to fight. Then secretly we realized we were both relieved.
We wouldn't have to put up the tent.
We folded up the tent. We went back
to the mall. We went to the movies. We ate pizza. We went home.
I am happy to report that unpacking
was much quicker than packing.
Now when our family goes out for
pizza and a movie, my three-year-old is thrilled because he thinks
we're camping.
Sure saves on packing time!
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