You know what’s awesomesauce about my family? We have no idea how to camp, have no camping supplies, have never been camping as a family, but yet still decided that going camping for a week (with three kids under nine—one of whom is autistic) would be a GREAT idea for a family vacation.
I don’t think this is going to end well. It is extremely likely that we will be killed by wild chipmunks who will then commence to living in our rib cages.
I think I should be worried because Alex was all, “Can you change the batteries in the lantern?” and I was all, “Why?” and he was all, “Because I can’t figure it out,” and I was all, “Wow, you’re not very smart, are you?” and then I tried to replace the batteries and now the lantern doesn’t work.
Wait. Late breaking news: Alex says banging it on the ground made it light up.
You’ll be happy to know that we DO have telescoping marshmallow forks though. We’re going to be like the badasses at the pool hall who pull out their own pool cues, except instead of wowing hoodlums in a dank bar, we’ll be alone in the dark patting each other on the back. And instead of being all The Hustler, we’re going to be all Yogi Bear in Jellystone Park.
I’ve been too busy this weekend to get my shit together to help prepare, so Alex has been in charge of getting ready. And no matter how inept and inexperienced at camping I am, Alex is even more so. See, I spent a couple months in the hard-motherfucking-core summer* of 1993 camping every night, but haven’t really done so since then. Also, at the time, it is somewhat of a miracle that my co-camper and I were not eaten by bears.
I mentioned camping to UrbanMama in the we-shan’t-live-to-see-Labor-Day sense, and she and her husband kindly loaned us some camping implements. I don’t know what Alex picked up. He basically went over there and did some shopping in their living room. If we survive, it will all be due to them.
Alex also went to REI to pick up a couple things. Like, and I shit you not, a Frisbee.
So, let’s see. We have a lantern that may or may not work, marshmallow roasters, a tent, three kids, and a Frisbee.
What could possibly go wrong?
* That’s for you, Sherry.