The Camping Trip

B and I took the boys on our first family camping adventure over the weekend. Despite being in close contact with nature for three whole days, we managed to return to the comforts of home in one piece (more or less).

Don’t get me wrong, we had a great time. Aidan loved watching Grandpa Doug make a fire for hotdogs and s’mores, there was a swimming pool and a playground, and the boys are still talking about catching frogs. We weren’t far from Peterborough, so we did a couple of trips into town to visit the zoo and the lift lock (boats go up, boats go down, boats go up, boats go down…)

Sleep was a little hard to come by. Aidan stayed up pretty late and couldn’t decide where he wanted to rest his head – in the trailer with Nana Sue, in the big tent with Aunt Meillyn, or in our tiny tent wedged between Mom and Dad. Of course he chose the last option, then woke up with the sun at 5:15 am. I was ready to chloroform him, but unfortunately I had left the bottle at home.

Regretfully, I wasn’t that careful when I was looking for a stick for roasting marshmallows, and I’m pretty sure I brushed up against some poison ivy. Whatever happened, the back of my hand is covered with about 45 itchy red bumps. It’s pretty gross, and B has asked that I not touch her until the disfigurement goes away.

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4 thoughts on “The Camping Trip

  1. You city folks. If you have access to a city and a zoo and a trailer that’s not camping. That’s moving suburbia to a overgrown park. Unless you’re three days away from being airlifted to a hospital and you’re using maple leafs for toilet paper you’re just pretending to camp.

    Signed,
    Northern Ontario Boy Now Living In Calgary

  2. We were in the wild, man. I woke up in the middle of the night and had to wrestle a wild frog from our tent.

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