Reflections on Camping*

It is five am.  But we went to sleep by 10.

The camp site was hardened crushed gravel and dirt.  But it wasn't uncrushed gravel. 

Your sleeping bag is great, but it is still cold. 

My Achilles' tendon is still barking at me, and will be for days to come, but the three Advil I took last night helped, i think, though my back disagrees.  Totally disagrees.

A few raindrops are falling, but the birds are singing. 

Ah the magnificently contradictory joys of sleeping in a tent outdoors.

Wish you were here.  If only to help me stand up.  And thank you for the great gift of time with your puppy dog son.    Or so that I could kill you. 

Definitely kill you.  If only I could move.

*Marriage kept lively by surprise sign ups for Cub Scout overnights. 

Real Writer's Block

“What are you doing?” my husband asked as he approached the computer desk, sandwich and milk in hand, eager for an hour or two of Civilizations IV.

“Trying to write a column for a contest.” I replied.

“Doing what exactly?”

“Writing about family life. It’s a contest and the winner gets $300 bucks. The entry fee is $11. See?”

He glanced at the screen. “You aren’t going to use our real names are you? You can’t write about our camping trip! We’d look like idiots, setting up tents at 10 o’clock at night, pushing the button on the SUV every two minutes to give us light, the baby crying, the kids howling for food, me throwing pop-tarts and cokes at them for dinner, and the nearest bathroom a 6/10 of a mile away.”

“You left out the giant cricket on the toilet seat.”

“No.”

“Okay, I’ve got another idea.”

“Like what?”

“How about when Lisa found a snake in the bathroom while she was potty training…”
“You can’t write about that, people will think we live in a vermin infested home!”

“For $300 dollars, we could call Orkin.”

“I caught that snake for you, thank you very much.”

“And I was very grateful. It’s a good story. It has a happy ending.”

“Do you want my mother to read this?”

……

“Okay. Starting over. How about when David was the solo in the Christmas pageant and knocked over his music stand during the introduction? Or the time the coach threatened to hot glue his shoe laces together if he didn’t tie them?”

“Must all your stories be embarrassing about us?”

“No, I could write about how I totaled the car the day it was paid off. I could also write about the time we took all of them to your brother’s rehearsal dinner and they all threw up…”

“Absolutely not. Look, I’m proud of you and your writing, but I’m just not sure I’m ready for us to look like the Bumpuses from next door to the whole world.”

“We won’t really, we’ll just look like, well, us.”

“That’s what worries me.”

“You know, I might not win.”

“What do you mean you won’t win? We’re not funny enough? I’ll be insulted if we don’t at least place.”

“Why don’t you play CIV IV? I’ll watch.”