The problem with most guys is that they believe what they see on beer commercials. If these commercials are accurate, camping should mean that I heft stacks of coolers out of my 4X4 as beautiful nymphs peek at my rippled abdomen.
For my wife, on the other hand, camping means Communing With Nature.
As soon as we arrived at our site I began “hefting” and building our new tent while my nymph-like wife kept the kids from killing each other.
“Insert the ends of the 3-section roof pole into the plastic hubs (A) attached to the tent top…”
Ha Ha! This is easy, I thought to myself. The kids were playing, my wife was happy, the sun was shining and the only clouds in the sky were white and fluffy like bunnies.
“Take the 4-section roof pole and place one end into one of the pole pockets…”
In no time at all and with a little good old Canadian elbow grease, I had transformed our stacks of camping gear into one huge pile of stuff. The sun was still shining, the family was still happy and the clouds were still white and bunny-like. And, as bunnies are prone to do, the clouds had begun to multiply at an amazing rate.
“Fasten the gazebo floor sheet to the gazebo by hooking the s-hooks (G) onto the corners to the rings of the pin-ring assemblies…”
“Isn’t this great?” I asked my wife. “Out here in the wilderness, at one with Nature!”
“Maybe we should eat,” replied my wife, glancing at a sky full of angry bunny clouds.
“Not me! I’m doin’ man stuff!”
“To install the inner tent, simply hook the plastic s-hooks (L) along the front and back edges to the corresponding loops located inside the gazebo…”
“Boy, it sure gets dark early when you don’t have street lights,” I said as I worked away.
“Put the stupid tent up before I get soaked,” encouraged my wife.
Without going into detail, I can only say that things went downhill from there. No beer commercial that I know of depicts a fun filled family camping trip where the temperature drops ten degrees and it storms for three days straight. It got so cold that we ended up putting ALL the clothes on the kids at the same time. For my son, that meant wearing six pairs of shorts and a pair of jeans.
That night, I tried to comfort my wife.
My Wife: “What a disaster.”
Me: “Honey, c’mon. It’s not that bad. Let’s cuddle and Commune With Nature.”
My Wife: “Nature, at this point in time, is whipping lightning bolts at our tent and pelting us with freezing rain. She doesn’t want to be messed with. I say DITTO.”
Mental Note: When we get home, dig a deep hole and pitch the tent.