Dear Crabby,
My son wants me to stay overnight in a tent with him, but I just do not want to. Have you ever had this dilemma? If so what did you do to get out of it?
Sincerely, Bad Dad
Dear Bad Dad,
Oh the joys of sleeping out in nature under the stars and being one with nature! Ya, it’s not my thing either. I have spent a few nights out there in my life, but none of my experiences made me want to do it again. The first time I stayed out was during summer camp when I was in the fifth grade. All I remember is that my buddy and I secretly brought candy and hid it in our pillow cases. The camp leader warned us not to bring any food, but we figured we were smarter than him. At one point in the middle of the night I woke up and saw a small critter running over my buddy’s pillow with some of his food. I did what any fifth grader would have done at that time; I went back to sleep! In the morning we talked about it and got more freaked out than when it happened. It was a long time before I ventured out under the stars again. I believe I was in college when a group of friends and I went on a weekend camping trip. One of my good friends had a mammoth tent that was the size of a small house. I on the other hand had a three man tent that was less than a quarter of that size. So we decided to put my tent inside his and call it the master bedroom. I slept in it alone and was so proud of the fact that I brought a giant
foam cushion to sleep on. There was no way that I was going to get a stiff back on this trip. My friend with the large tent also had the foresight to bring a cot that was about eight inches off the ground. That night it rained so hard that there were literally floods flowing down the roads all around us and through us. We found out quickly that neither his tent nor mine was actually flood proof. I also found out that foam is a great sponge that soaks up all the water nearby! My friend was dry and cozy and I was soaked and miserable. So several years later when my son wanted to sleep out in a tent I had all sorts of objections. But being a good dad I told him I would stay out with him one time on the Fourth of July weekend. It seemed like that was always a warm time of the year. However that particular year it was only 46 degrees at night and I froze in that little tent. So with a perfect three miserable experiences I have concluded that I was not made to tent camp. I am alright with this conclusion though. So good luck to you and I hope you have better luck that I did.
Sincerely, Dear Crabby
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