As much as I love sports and competition and tease my husband about his girlish fear of all things insect or arachnid, I am a far cry from a tom-boy.
For example, I hate snakes. Hate seems like such a small word when it comes to how I feel about snakes. If I knew there was a snake in the same BUILDING as me, it’s possible that my heart would stop. Thinking about it right now has brought on the sweats, watery eyes, a gentle trembling and elevated heart rate. It’s beyond a phobia, and I really have no interest in changing that. I think it’s a healthy fear – after all, snakes can kill you.
I explain all this because Hubby (who often teases me that he will get a real pet snake to keep in the garage – not funny) loves the outdoors. I like being outside, too – with proper attire, sun screen, bug spray, restroom facilities, electricity, preferably an air-conditioned or heated place to sleep and NO SNAKES WITHIN A FIFTEEN MILE RADIUS. Alas, our annual camping trip with his family does not afford the last three items on that list (and one year didn’t even provide the last FOUR), and I have eight days to prepare myself. I go because I love him. And I can’t stand being called a City Girl.
It will be Angel Face’s first camping trip, and while I am certain she will probably love it (outside was one of her first words), I think it’s also wise to prepare her for the realities of sleeping under the stars – or in a brand-new three-room family tent that we got for Christmas. So, we’ve planned to set up the tent in the backyard and have a good old-fashioned family sleepover just feet from our deck and the inviting comfort and cool of our air-conditioned bedrooms.
Of course it’s supposed to rain this weekend. We’ll see how it goes. We have one of those wheeled outdoor fireplace thingies, so we’ll even be able to teach her about the wonder and danger of FIRE. Let’s hope nobody gets disfigured.