Closing the book on Camping

by Magnolia

I guess one good thing about my recent camping experience is that it has brought me back to Chicken Fried Therapy. And Junior and Little E had the time of their lives. And I was surrounded by great friends. Another good thing is that I can now say for certain that I will NEVER go camping again. I’m just too old and sleeping bags are way too confining.

I can blame the Boy Scouts of America for this. Junior has claimed that he intends to be an Eagle Scout one day so I could not avoid the campout any longer. Our den leader kindly reminded me that Junior could not cross over into Boy Scouts until he completes a campout with his den. No Boy Scout crossover means no Eagle Scout. I certainly didn’t need that hanging over my head. Mothers are blamed for enough already.

So I made the official announcement that I would be attending the campout. The shock and disbelief from everyone was not really that encouraging until my dear friend reminded me that I did Outward Bound in college and only ate butter for 3 days so surely I could camp one night. The butter part isn’t exactly true, but my memory was jolted back to a time when I was a lot tougher and a great deal more low maintenance. That is if you call peeing off the side of a boat and not showering for 3 weeks low maintenance.

Armed with my refreshed memory, I borrowed some killer camping equipment, made some chili and set out for the campsite. I took the jokes about my 3 room tent in stride and had a smile on my face the whole time. I loved the campfire, roasting marshmallows and just being together. But I just can’t sleep in a sleeping bag on the ground.

So I’m not sure where this puts me on the scale of low to high maintenance. It’s over. I did it, and I bet I could still pee off the side of a boat...if my life depended on it.