This weekend my husband took us camping. Normally he likes to take us camping when it is 95 degrees and there is a possibility of a thunderstorm or a mass mosquito attack, so I was pleasantly surprised to be camping in temperatures with highs of 75 and lows of 55. You can't beat that.
Ethan has been asking incessantly to go camping. Of course he has. His contribution to camping involves nothing related to packing or doing laundry or getting work done so we can leave. But he has that cute little voice and he whines until you break down. At least that is what his father says.
When I agreed to go camping, I didn't realize that the drive would be four hours. Four hours is a bit of a trek for an overnight stay in a tent. But my husband knew how to get all of us on his side. He told us that we were going camping at Assateague Island. He made promises that we would see wild horses and lots of wildlife. Wild horses? It took the four-hour drive to explain to Ethan the difference between tame horses and wild horses. Which was instantly shut down when we arrive because the horses were wandering between campgrounds, looking for a nice piece of steak or maybe a quality organic burger. Even with a whopping $500 fine, I have a feeling the "wild" horses are eating a little better than that sea grass we saw everywhere.
It was only after we arrived that I remembered WHY Ethan loves camping so much. Ethan loves camping because his father allows him to wield large, dangerous and sharp tools. I turned around after setting up my side of the tent to find Ethan banging a stake into the ground. With the back side of a hatchet. If it makes you feel better, he read the look of shock on my face and proceeded to explain to me exactly how to be safe with a hatchet. Me? I could do without taking any chances.