As moral and honest members of society, we feel a deep obligation to keep our children under 1 year of age out of both public and private campgrounds, in deference to the peace and enjoyment of fellow campers.Our own backyard, however, is fair game.
America's Got Talent!! (well, not at our house, but probably somewhere)
America's Got Drool!! (Definitely at our house)
America's Got Marshmallows Roasting Over a Propane Grill! (Really, it could be the title of the next great reality show)
We read Mrs. Piggle Wiggle, did Mad Libs and flashlight puppets, and tried in vain to find a comfortable spot on our sloping lawn. We had lots of blood flowing to our brains until we finally all turned around to slope downward. Ben made it until 10:30 or so and finally gave up our comfortable accomodations for his top bunk. The rest of us (C and G and me---Rich, being the devoted Dad that he is, offered to spend the night inside with Sam---such sacrifce!) made it until about 5:30am, when our neighbor's sprinklers came into direct contact with our tent. I herded two sleepy-heads inside into their beds and managed to catch about 20 minutes of sleep in my own bed before I heard a certain someone laughing in their crib, ready to greet the day.We should all be that happy at 6am.
But we sure had fun. The best part? No pit toilets (well, sometimes mine does resemble a pit) and no long drive home!!
2 comments:
How fun is that? I love it! Please don't tell my children what lame parents they have...
We just did that. Only we call it "tent nite". I wonder why we go through all of it until I see the kids' smiles. Although your tent sounds much more fun than ours. We only watch a movie in ours. I call smores next time. Actually we should meet up the canyon and do smores. Or play baseball. How does Monday sound?
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