Friday, December 11, 2009

Camping!

It's May long weekend and this is the first year in forever that we are not going camping. EVERYONE goes camping may long. Friday is always hot and sunny and you are sure that the rest of the weekend is going to be exactly the same, so you load up the camper and beer and head to the lake to get to get away from it all and relax after a winter of being cooped up. Turns out, that everyone and their dog had the same idea.  You squeeze your camper into the only spot left between the family with 5 kids and 3 dogs, and the partiers and their facination with a fire as big as a volkswagon van (maybe thats what it actually is?) and parking that fire 3 feet from my explosive-when-on-fire TRUCK. I can't tell you how many times I woke up in the middle of the night and made B.D. move the truck/camper/still attached to the tarps, attached to everyone elses tarps, and some trees, because the fire is raging, and the hurricane force winds that are blowing the snow in, are also blowing the sparks and flames directly to the door of my camper. The heat in the camper is unbearable, and I am sure the doorknob is a melting off. The next morning, you always wake up to snow, which turns to torrential rains and wind that could blow the paint off the side of your truck. You are stuck in the camper all day with 3 kids and the 2 dogs that you HAD to bring because "they will have so much fun" (being tied up like they are at home because there is a million other dogs running around the trailer park that has sprung up. You now discover a new leak in the ceiling. The day we come home is always nice and hot, just like Friday was, but B.D. is always getting some heavy duty anxiety by this point. He is down to 2 packs of cigarettes and there is no *gasp* corner store in sight! The camper, I spent days cleaning and neatly packing and tried to keep organized and clean all weekend, now looks like a bomb went off outside, and everything landed inside. B.D. is throwing everything he thinks belongs to us into the camper because panic is really setting in now. He almost forgets the boat, but at the last minute backs the whole truck and camper into the lake with me inside trying to lock cupboard doors,and drags it out barely on the tailer. I am banging on the camper door and screaming to be let out (because he shut the tailgate to load the boat), he is throwing kids and dogs in as fast as he can. He finally hears me, opens the door and yells "What the hell are you doing sittin in here?" We race to the truck and we're gone like shine runners in the night. I spend the entire ride home saying "did you get this, what about that, you forgot to..."  I can't bear to look in the mirror because I know the boat is flapping like a flag in the breeze, the wheels touching the ground for only a split second every 20 feet or so, fishing rods and life jackets being strewn from Stony lake to the highway. It's ok, I seen him throw the neighbors into our camper in his blind panic.  We pull in the driveway with the boat hanging on by a thread. It gets unhooked and the camper gets shoved off the truck, jacks all different heights, and half ripped off  because he has to work the next morning ya know. It's noon. We then spend the next week trying to clean up the warzone in the camper that B.D. created in his mad dash to escape the killer trees. I am so pissed we are not going camping this may long.

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