The Great Camp-Out

Mom bought a 6-man tent while she was travelling this past week. So, of course, Mandi and I decided that the only sensible thing to do on a Friday night was to make sure that this new addition to the family was going to be able to pull its weight. Yup, we camped out . . . at least by our definition of the term (I guess it would be fair to say that some people would argue that it doesn't qualify as "camping" if you set up the tent in the front lawn, not even 10 feet from the front porch . . .). Nevertheless, after a cut-throat game of Scrabble around the kitchen table with the rest of the family, Mom, Mandi, and I shimmied out the front door, each bundled in 3 layers of clothing and carrying air-mats and extra sleeping bags, into what was predicted to be a chillier-than-normal night.

Once we snuggled into our slippers and burrowed into our bags, we got a good dose of Dr. Seuss ("Oh, the Thinks you can Think!" to be precise) and turned out the light. I slept quite soundly (which I guess could be evidenced by the pillow which supposedly was catapulted to my side of the tent in attempt to squelch my melodious snoring . . .). All things considered, the experience was a great success, in my book. I give the tent the JaimiDoodle Seal of Approval. Great buy, Mom.

Besides making a satisfactory shelter for "camping," I must say that I think our new tent makes an impressive addition to the landscape. As I type, it stands there beside the flagpole, slowly, yet proudly, suffocating the patch of grass over which it is staked . . . hmmm . . . yeah, we should probably do something about that.