The occasion? Our first Cub Scout camp out. It was low key as these things go, in a state park about 40 minutes from our house. The option was there to bail, and there were flush toilets available at the camping site. The troop leaders had handled the food logistics, so all we really had to do was show up. My husband and younger two kids came for Saturday, then left for home around 7:30 p.m.
I’ve had some rough nights sleeping in tents. Indeed, the last time my husband and I used that tent — roughly 9 months before the 6-year-old was born — we had a few less-than-restful nights in Yellowstone. The temperature had dropped near freezing at night. I was worried about bears. I injured my feet hiking, a fiasco that ultimately led to my losing my two big toenails. Rumor has it my husband may snore.
But this time was fine. My 6-year-old conked out at 10pm and slept straight through to 7:30. He didn’t snore. I woke up a few times, but fewer times than I thought I would. The temperature landed at a relatively balmy 60 degrees — absolutely perfect for sleeping outside. And even better, when we woke up and put away the tent, I just had to haul it to the car, rather than carry it 8 miles in a backpack.
My son had a blast. Unfortunately, he may have enjoyed it too much, as now he’s scheduling our next camping trip, and asking if we can spend a week in the backyard in our tent. It was a nice night this Saturday, but it wasn’t that nice.
Have you ever gone camping with your kids?
Photo courtesy flickr user Rikx