Roughing It

Here is a little ditty from our camping trip over the weekend. For those of you that mock my sense of adventure and heartiness (BRENDA), I have proof that I did actually have to dig deep and truly rough it.

Our crew went swimming Saturday morning (remember the thong?). By early afternoon it was time to pack it in and head back to the rig. DH, Auntie MooMoo and Uncle Kiwi had a tee time while Jack, Jill and I were going to stay behind for Quiet Time. A cold beer, chewy chocolate cookies, hot shower and WiFi anyone? One word: Heaven!

I am a good little camper and know how to take sailors showers (turn the water off to conserve while lathering). Although we were in a campsite with plug ins DH decided not to hook up the water, assuring me we had enough.

Uh huh.

I was covered head to toe with soap and hair dripping with conditioner when, you guessed it, the water sputtered and ran out. I had 2 kids asleep (one on the couch up front and one in our bed in the back) and not an adult family member in sight. FOR HOURS.

My survival instincts kicked in. I grabbed a towel, burst out of the bathroom, ran across the rig to a cabinet and pulled out a case of bottled water that I drug back to the shower. Did I mention all the blinds were open? Poor neighbors.

Look out Man Vs Wild, there's a new kid in town: