Ever since our tragi-comic attempt at a family campout last Fall, my three year old has been begging for another one. Since the weather’s nice and I have some free time this week, we headed out…to the backyard. I don’t have that much free time this week.
We set up the smaller tent since it would be just me and two of the littler kids, and stocked our “camp” with some coloring books. We bundled up as we settled in to go to sleep, but it wasn’t necessary: it was cool–chilly, even, by the end of the night–but never cold.
I woke up feeling refreshed and grateful not to have had a hard night. It was getting bright and I was surprised that the kids weren’t up before me–the kids in this family are early risers who rarely miss the first round of the day’s cartoons. I had to go to the bathroom, so I went inside and checked what time it was.
3:12 A.M. The light I’d mistaken for pre-dawn was just the full moon shining through the window of our tent. Heartbroken, I trudged back into the tent.
An hour later I still wasn’t back to sleep when my three year old woke up and said he had to go potty. I took him inside and after he finished and was zipping up his jammies, he turned to me and said with the world’s biggest smile, “It’s fun having a campout!” So I guess it was worth it.
On a random note, I just want to share that, in a little over a year, this is my 300th post on this blog. My original goal was to average a post per day, but I’m happy with how things have gone so far.