Death By Camping

Certain parts of life are more exhausting than they should be.

Take camping, for example. What could be more fun? Outside in the peace of nature, s'mores and fishing, swimming in the lake, sparklers and card games, hiking and seeing the stars ... bliss, right?

Yes. Except the sunburn and mosquito bites and calamine lotion and sand and dirt and sleepless nights on the hard ground. To name a few. But I love camping!

I don't, however, like the packing or unpacking. (Except the organizing part, I will admit. I do love to do that.)

I mean, ok, if you're single, or just married, it's probably a snap: A few duffel bags, a tent and some sleeping stuff, and you're off. But camping with kids is quite another story. I literally had a packing list two pages long, double-columned. For two adults and four children. For two nights.

*dies *

And then there's trying to stuff it AND the family into the van. For a 2 hour trip. In July, without air conditioning. Listening to Dora on the laptop because a certain toddler hates her car seat.

*decides a heart attack did it *

And then there's re-packing it to head home, with things slipping and sliding, and falling all over the floor. And wondering how you got it all to fit in the first place, because it sure looks bigger now! And whoever invented sleeping bags needs a good slap on the wrist. They're impossible to re-roll and fit in those bags without being Superman.

*and an anxiety attack *

If that wasn't bad enough, then there's the UNpacking. Lugging load after load after load after load - you get the picture - up thirty steps. And then trying to remember where everything goes, and not realizing you even had that thing you apparently packed, and why did you pack that other one in the first place? You haven't used it since you bought it seven years ago, so why was it necessary for two nights away from home, I tell ya?

*at least it was quick *

And don't get me started on the laundry. Sticks and stones and sand and silt, and other various S's that were not meant to be washed.

*and not too painful *

So then you're peeling and sore, and you feel like you were put through the spin cycle, and you're hot and sticky from not showering in three days, and being out in the heat of summer, and having to go to the bathroom in a sickeningly sweet hole with a toilet lid on top. No running water. (Give the folks at Purell a raise!) Anyhow, you just don't feel like doing a single darn thing for at least a week. Vacation from your vacation, yep.

*there will be fond memories to remember you by, at least, of the campfire variety *

And the bugs. See, bugs love you. And your stuff. They follow you home, dead or alive. The spiders in your basement absolutely love it when you come back from camping. So at least you're being nice to them. Something about doing unto the least of these ...

*and maybe they'll put wildflowers on your grave, in rememberance of why you died *

And then your cat drives you crazy because she thought you were abandoning her. (She has issues.) So she sheds all over you and follows you around - loudly - for a few weeks or so, and kneads your stomach (ouch!) as you pet her, and gives you The Look if you stop. (Because you abandoned her, for goodness' sake, so she deserves some pampering.)

*and they'll vow never to venture into the great outdoors again, on your behalf *

And seriously, did you know that calamine lotion (for poison ivy and such) is a thin liquid, like, more watery than lotion. Why do they even call it a lotion? Why not just calamine? It gets all over everything, and you think you're spreading the poison, and then you Purell your hands to a dried pulp, and then you recall that you forgot to pack the lotion. The real one. So you just have to deal. But that has nothing to do with packing or unpacking, really.

*and they'll found the Bekah Fund for the Packing Impaired, to help mothers everywhere prepare and de-stress, so others don't die in this tragic way - awareness is half the battle! *

So camping, in all its glory, is actually quite a hassle. Don't undertake it unless you're ready for a Fun sandwich - with Work being the bread!

But you know, this is just an example. Not like I've had any experience, or know this from real life. Just a hypothetical kind of blog.

*and pigs die from over-exposure to turbulence and very high mountain peaks. no radar, ya know. *


;)