Recently, Aaron bought a tent, and then, I slept in a tent… in my living room. I feel like if we’ve met, or if you’ve just been reading this blog here for any length of time at all, you probably know how against I am about doing things outdoors.
This is the reason that I have only been camping one other time. One time that was horrible and I hated. I’m also quite sure that the outdoors hates me back… trees and I do not mesh.
But good news. Now I have another experience to add to the horrible camping list. Wouldn’t you just assume that sleeping in the living room would make it a pleasant experience? Or at the very least, you would think that it went ok… right?
Well, I ended up ditching Aaron, the dog, and the tent and sleeping in the bedroom instead.
I really didn’t want it to end this way, but there was nothing I could do. I was SO uncomfortable, my back and my hips had turned against me. I woke up in the morning feeling guilty and ashamed…
Mostly because I am so damn high maintenance and I can’t even pretend I’m not. Secondly, because the husband (with his bad back) was still sleeping on the living room floor. At least I am remaining true to the person he married… right? right. No, “you’ve changed!” over here.
Clearly I am the only one in the house not about the whole tent situation…. Maybe camping will never be for me? Kalie had a blast, wanted to do it every night, but then still went to bed with me. That is right people, she abandoned her post as soon as the bed heater turned on.