Roughin' It

"Hey Josh, help me unload our stuff from the van, and then we'll go swimming."

First Load: sleeping bags and pillows

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Second Load: Rubbermaid container filled with basic camping supplies: flashlights, matches, paper products, bug repellent, etc...

Third Load: lawn chairs, swimming gear, and cooler

Fourth Load..."Hey Josh, did you already get our suitcase with all our clothes?" ."No, dad, did you?" . UGH!!!! Seems that the suitcase was residing back home in our living room. I'm blaming it on the 6 year-old.

Hey, we're two tough dudes...who needs a change of clothes for a couple of days. If Marie or Cindy had been with us, we'd be back in the car to retrieve the suitcase, but a change of clothing is vastly overrated when you're camping- at least for my son and I.

We actually had a fantastic time. Josh was able to swim since I did remember to pack his body swim gear thing-a-ma-jig. After we tackled the putt-putt golf, we rented a paddle boat and took a leisurely "3 hour tour" out on the lake. The leisure atmosphere came to an abrupt halt though when we found ourselves mired in seaweed. Trying to behave myself in front of my ever so impressionable 6 year old, I contemplated what to do. As I saw it, I had three options. Take my shoes and socks off and drag the %^$@ paddle boat out of the muck, throw my son overboard and make him do the dirty work, or sit there and hope that Divine Intervention would come through for us. Opting for the third choice proved to be prudent because during our wait, this one cloud appeared in the sky and Josh and I had more fun trying to decide on the multiple animals that it looked like. We both agreed that it most resembled a frog.

Later in the evening, we enjoyed a hayride and a campfire cookout, and then early the next morning- smelling just a tad ripe from our 2nd day in the same clothes- we headed back down to the lake to feed the fish with a bunch of hot dog buns. Before leaving, Josh got the chance to saddle up on this fearsome looking bronco and toured the campground one last time. Not sure who smelled worse- the barnyard pony or my son.