You know what sucks? Camping in a tent. It totally sucks.
We did a little tag along camping trip this summer.
Don’t know what that is?
It’s when your friends pick the site, bring all the food, kayaks, bikes and generator for their super duper trailer and you show up with your tent and snotty kids.
Totally the way to camp.
Probably the only way to camp.
Especially when you want to take a dump.
Thanks for taking care of that for me, suckers.
I have a bold statement to make…
Camping in a tent with two kids is my version of hell.
In fact, I will even take the kids out of this because that is an entirely different post for a different day. Camping in a tent is my version of hell.
My Mom was horrified when I told her this.
Of course, she was.
In the 70’s she and my father packed up their 3 filthy children and spent 6 weeks camping across this beautiful country of ours. They didn’t drive more than four hours a day, hit up wonderful national parks and kept their food cold by wrapping it in wet canvas and tying it to the front of their car.
I, on the other hand, was very lucky to have been born about a decade after my closest sibling and spent my summer holidays eating nachos in restaurants and frolicking in pools in hotels that were spread across this beautiful country of ours.
Life was good for a spoiled brat.
Back to camping in a tent….
They are like people who like horses.
People who like horses, really like horses.
People that like to hike and tent and wipe their asses with flowers….
Well, they really like to hike and tent.
My friends also like to brag about the amazing meals they make from the powdered crap they carried for 9 hours on their back. To me, camping meals should only consist of hot dogs and eggs. Eating lasagna made from powder is kind of repulsive. Powdered chicken wings, different story.
Also, my friends like to talk about how much their gear cost. For me, I like to brag when I get a good deal on laundry soap, not that my itty bitty tent cost more than a used car.
Or that your socks cost more than my bra.
Nothing should cost more than my bra.
Don’t get me wrong, I like the outdoors as much as the next gal. I’m not a wimp. I can handle sleeping in a tent with a rock for a pillow. But, I simply prefer not to.
For me, I like my outdoors to be from a cabin, with a boat, running water, television and maybe a margarita maker.