happy camps-giving

There will be a bathroom there. I promise!

Famous last words, am I right? Oh I'm sorry, let me back up so you don't think I was scared to go in public in fear of bleeping my pants or something.

The very beginning of this story is that Freddie has been wanting to go camping. Actually the very, very beginning of this story is that I married a man who I thought was not into things such as camping in the middle of nowhere with no company but the bugs, however I was mistaken. Fast forward to just the very beginning and you'll find Freddie b-e-g-g-i-n-g me to go camping. All the time. For the past year.

It all started with a tent. After all, isn't that how most camping stories start? Freds researched and bought the best little tent that REI made, and then somehow within the next three to four months after that tent purchase we had a sleeping bag, lantern, flash light, and cast iron. All these hashtag camping necessities sat in our closet for months. And lemme tell ya, that's kind of where I preferred those items.

I tried my best to get out of camping. And listen, when I say I tried my best I really mean I pulled out all my tricks.

But you'd have more fun if you went with your male friends!

But I'll complain!

But we're busy for the next five weekends!

But I teach late on Fridays!

But you knew I wasn't an outdoorsy person when you married me! You want to divorce me?

But, but, but....

Pretty soon my brain ran out of but's and my butt was in the car on the way to a campsite. A campsite that was secluded enough so we could be away from light pollution, but also not so secluded that there wouldn't be a toilet and/or help for when the scary bad guys came to get us in our tents. <<<I've seen enough scary movies (read about three) to know that camping by yourselves in the middle of nowhere is stupid because the bad guys will find you and you will not survive (can you already tell how much fun Freddie must have been having at this point?)

fact: you can see about thirty-trillion-bazillion more stars out in the boondocks than you can in the city of Houston. 

Spoiler alert: The toilet was on the other end of the campsite so thank goodness I practice Pilates and can squat. That's enough about that.

Now listen here, it pains me to say this (like what I must assume is childbirth level pain), but I kind of had fun.

Freddie's somewhere at work reading this saying, "I told you so!" for the fifty-sixth time since we've been together. Fifty-sixth millionth time, that is.

We had a tiny, sandy, muddy spot right on the Colorado River. Lupe loved running off. Freddie loved going to get some more wood for the fire (seriously, I think he said that a total of twenty times and didn't even sit down more than five minutes that night) (men, insert eye roll) (take away eye roll because that firewood kept me warm). I loved eating s'mores. Coyotes loved howling. Cows loved moo-ing. And well, everyone had just a dandy time in camp land.

fun fact: I skipped a rock TWICE. First time I've ever successfully thrown and skipped a rock before so uh, where's my trophy?

Stay tuned for the next Weiss family vacation when we go camping again to a spa. Wink.

Have you ever squatted in the woods before? Excuse my manners, have you ever gone camping before?

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