QUOTE(Christian @ Sep 14 2006, 05:11 PM)
A tough work day is winding down. I’m eating my dinner, about to head out to a movie. But I wanted to post quickly, just to say that tomorrow, my wife and I are going camping. For four days. In tents. With our almost 4-year-old, and our 2-year-old.
And my wife is due to delivery our third child on Nov. 11. So she’s very pregnant.
Sarah and I last went camping before our almost 4-year-old was born. To my amazement, Sarah took both girls camping for a few days last year—without me. Now it’s my turn to join in the fun. All of the trips, including this one, involve meeting up with Sarah’s parents—so we do have someone to fall back on if things get, uh, ugly.
Neither of us is the outdoors type, although we’re not exactly intimidated by the idea of camping. Still, the idea of driving a couple of hours to be in the woods (actually, it’s right off Skyline Drive, in a National park! Not exactly rough ‘n’ tumble) strikes me more and more as surreal. Yeah, nature’s cool, but do I really feel a cryin’ need to be out in it for several days in a row?
OK, I’m sure it’ll be fun. Maybe I should put that in quotes: “fun.” Because we’ve all had camping experiences that were anything but “fun,” haven’t we? Let me tell you some stories from my childhood.
Better yet, how ’bout you guys tell me some stories?
My wife and I have camped, with and without kids, at least a couple times per year for the past twenty-five years. To be honest with you, I have never gotten used to it. I do it because I love them, and not for any other reason.
Some of it is attributable to wildly different dispositions, some of it to wildly different physiques. They think of the beauty of God's creation. I think of mosquitoes and tree roots in the middle of my back when I lie down at night. They are long-legged and slender, leap nimbly from boulder to boulder, and think that just about any day is suitable for a good, strenuous mountain hike, preferably of ten or more miles involving several-thousand-foot climbs in elevation. I, on the other hand, have the physique of Gimli, and the best I can say is that I like to curl up with a good book on a soft bed of pine needles, covered in mosquito netting and smelling strongly of Off. I gamely tag along, but I can assure you that this dwarf is not a natural sprinter, and I struggle not only to keep up with them, but not to pass out.
And I do it a couple times per year, because they thoroughly love it, and they are in their glorious element as Primal Nature Women. I'm fairly certain that the tradition will be carried on with my grandkids, and I will find myself in ten years still doing it as a hobbled, gnarled dwarf.
The fact that your wife, Christian, is doing this when she's seven months pregnant doesn't bode well for your future either, my friend.
Edited by Andy Whitman, 19 September 2006 - 02:11 PM.