Today we take the kids camping for the first time. I'm not quite sure what to expect, but I know better than to expect anything. Except mud. I expect lots and lots of mud. I'm pretty sure they'll love every second of it- dirt, trees, fresh air, lots and lots of room to play ball and blow bubbles and run around laughing maniacally- but one never knows.
I haven't been camping in over 10 years. Camping is by and large a young person's game. I realize that I'm talking like I'm 90, but good lord people... who over the age of 22 is still good at squatting to pee?!? It's hard. And sleeping arrangements become a bit more complicated. I used to sleep in a sleeping bag. On the ground. No mat, no mattress, nothing. Ground. Now I require a self-inflating air mattress with actual bedding (mostly because I no longer own sleeping bags... because I'm OLD). And the thought of having to drink instant coffee is absolutely abhorrent. It's pathetic. I used to be good at this. I used to be a camper. I camped, damn it! Now... well, hopefully I can rediscover the pee-in-the-woods squat.
And now there are children. Two of them. And they're small. Small children. I can easily imagine camping with a six year old and an eight year old. They can help. They can set up camp and build fires and sleep in their own tent. They'll be interested in exploring and I'll feel like it's probably okay to turn my back on them for more than two seconds. Now, however, I'm wondering what's going to happen if my husband and I both have to pee and we can't keep a firm grip on the Little One. The Big One's not much help in that arena. But that Little One, man. He's wily. And he's FAST, you guys. You have no idea. One blink and he'll be hitchhiking on the interstate.
Luckily, there's a 50% chance of thunderstorms and general rainy goodness over our camping weekend. So that'll be neat.
Just as long as the giant spiders stay away from me, I'm game for all of it. Bring it on, nature. Bring it on.