What I learned on our camping/road trip last weekend:
1. If you find skid marks on your child’s underwear – her spare pair – just pull her panties back up and pretend like you didn’t see a thing. And do whatever you can to erase the image from your mind.
2. If you neglect to change Kaiden’s socks all weekend, you shall suffer the consequences – feet that smell like a cross between old cheese and rotten eggs. Whatever you do, don’t let him know how bad his feet smell or you will find them shoved in your face with him shouting “Smell my feet! Smell my feet!” while you try not to puke.
3. The perfect answer to the age-old question of “Are we there yet?,” especially when asked 20 minutes into a 5-hour road-trip, is: “No, and if you ask me that one more time, we won’t be there for 100 hours. And aliens will beam us up to their spaceship and do strange experiments on us.”
4. Walking into a giant Oak tree in the dark feels a lot like running into a brick wall. Optimistic discovery: a bottle of ice-cold St. Pauli’s will take the swelling down on your head almost as fast as ice, especially if consumed soon after.
5. It’s a guarantee that your children will wake up earlier than normal when camping. Lie to them and tell them the moon is super bright and it’s still night time and they need to go back to sleep. Or bears will eat them for dinner. And then the aliens will get them.
6. A pit-stop at the zoo on the way home is a great way to break up the drive, but best to avoid the chimpanzees as they will give your children ideas about picking their butts and then putting their fingers in their mouth.
7. Coming home when football is on TV means that I am unpacking the car by myself, thus giving me yet one more reason to hate football season.
8. If you make a stop for one child to go to the bathroom, the other will say she doesn’t have to go, but as soon as you are back in the car she will have to pee and you will have to pull over at yet another gas station, where she will take a half hour to squeeze a little poo out while you sit anxiously awaiting among boxes of Gatorades and Cokes, wondering if your husband thinks you have fallen in the toilet or been kidnapped.