I don’t know how you feel about foul language, but when Dave’s mate dropped the C word in front of me and the kids the other day, I was knocked for a six.
We were having a lovely afternoon. The kids were playing well together and the adults were maxin’ and relaxin’. All was well until he let it slip.
‘What are you guys doing for the long weekend?’ he asked nonchalantly.
‘We’re going camping if you want to come along.’
The moment I heard that god-awful word, I was like a deer stuck in the headlights.
Part of my brain was thinking, ‘… just smile casually and handle the situation calmly’. While the other part of my brain was screaming out, ‘… think of an excuse, Renee. Quick, think of an excuse. C’mon, Renee. You’re killing me. For the love of God, will you think of an excuse?’
‘Ahh,’ I said faking disappointment.
‘I have a high tea on Saturday, I’m afraid.
‘Yeah. Bummer. Right in the middle of the long weekend. Oh well, guess we’ll just have to miss out this time.’
I gave myself an imaginary high five as I considered the issue done and dusted.
Dave and his mate exchanged looks. Looks I know all too well. To me, the looks mocked me.
‘Poor city kid,’ I’m sure they were thinking.
‘Can’t live without her hair straighteners.’
Let me defend myself.
I’m at a disadvantage. I never went camping as a child. We had civilised holidays at the beach in a unit. It wasn’t a five star unit, it was a basic unit with beds, a kitchen, shower and TV. Oh yeah, and doors and windows to keep you safe from wildlife and axe murderers. Not much to ask for a holiday, I wouldn’t think. Meanwhile, Dave and his mate grew up camping and have a love for the great outdoors.
In the early days of our relationship, I was so lovestruck I went along with Dave’s camping ideas. Our first camping adventure together was in a tiny caravan in Munich.
Looks comfortable doesn’t it? He even gave me a 3/4 thermarest and folded up some of his clothes for me to use as a pillow.
Then he talked me into doing a van tour of New Zealand. It was actually pretty fun to be honest, but by the end of the trip I was craving a shower where I didn’t have to wear thongs and a toilet that I didn’t have to share with human size mosquitos.
Since that last trip in 2006, I’ve successfully managed to avoid camping. Cue more high fives.
Dave is becoming a little more persistent with his camping requests though. It’s his idea of the perfect family holiday, whereas sharing a tent with a two and four year old is my definition of a living nightmare.
Sure, sleeping under the stars sounds romantic and it would be great to get away from the hustle and bustle, but unless its glamping, I think he’s going to have a hard time convincing me.
After visiting Dave’s family in NZ earlier this year, his camping fever has increased ten-fold. His brother and sister in law filled his mind with amazing camping stories. They and their two kids (older than ours) simply pull their car up beside a lake and bunk down for the night. To Dave this sounds like magic. To me it sounds like hell on earth. He can’t wait to do this with us in Australia. Dave, if you’re reading, there are animals and insects that can KILL you in Australia.
I was chatting to a workmate last week, who is an avid camper. She told me all about the tent and equipment they take and how well set up their camp site is. It was a light bulb moment for me.
That night I went home armed with this information. I told Dave I’m not going camping until we have the right equipment. We don’t even have a tent.
I was feeling very pleased with myself until Dave responded with: Chris from work said we could borrow his tent and camping gear anytime.
Anytime, Chris? How generous of you.
While it’s been a lucky escape for me this time, who knows how long I will be able to hold off my camping loving husband for. Stay tuned.
Are you a camper or prefer life’s little luxuries? What do you like/dislike about camping? What’s your ideal family holiday?
Linking up today with EssentiallyJess for I Blog on Tuesdays.