We have taken the kids camping the first week of August every summer for the past 15 years. This year, The Husband and I decided we're getting too old for this.
It's a lot of work to set up camp, cook for a bunch of hungry teenagers, entertain them, de-camp. Not to mention pre- and post-camp organizing and clean-up.
So we're going to do something different this year. Don't know what quite yet, but ya'll will be the first to know.
Despite the fact that I'm looking forward to letting someone else wait on me, I'm going to miss camping. We tell great stories around the campfire, play games, eat like pigs and come home appreciating a hot shower and soft bed.
My fondest memory is when The Girl was only a wee thing. She wasn't quite comfortable with me yet and preferred to go to the washroom with Daddy. We all trucked to the washrooms for bedtime detail. The wall dividing boys from girls didn't go all the way to the ceiling, so you could hear everything next door.
The Husband apologized to a man who was also in the washroom, as The Girl was being quite animated pontificating on various aspects of the meaning of life from the perspective of a four year old. The man laughed and said he had boys of his own.
Which prompts The Girl to suddenly remember a tidbit of information she recently learned and pipes up:
"Daddy ... it's not a tail, it's a penis!"