Here’s me, the one in the middle, the oldest with my brother, sister, and Fritzie. I’m not wearing glasses, so I was around five years old in that picture. And that is the tent my parents had the entire time I was growing up. I camped from infant to 16 and hated it.

This picture was taken on a day when it didn’t rain. It always rained on our camping trips, every day except one and I’m going to guess this non-rainy day is my sister’s birthday. My dad picked the same two weeks every year for camping, right around my sister’s birthday. One thing about our birthdays, it never rained on our birthdays. Mine is in July and my sister’s is in August. God always gave us a rain free day. It was the day my parents dried out the tent.

Another reason I don’t like camping is because we slept on the ground. Oh there were sleeping pads for our sleeping bags, but still the ground is hard and I didn’t like it.

Camping trips meant two weeks of rain and Dad spending the entire time in the middle of the lake – fishing. Okay, not always. There were camping trips that didn’t involve fishing. They involved cherry picking. Camping trips were work, not play or sitting in the tent the entire time to keep out of the rain.

So, yes, I’ve been camping, but not once since I left home. The only camping I’ll do now is in a hotel room. Soft beds and no rain.

Have you been camping? Let me know in the comments below. Thanks for reading. The picture belongs to me.