Do I Have To Pretend To Love Camping, Too?

I don't know about you, but I am through trying to pretend I like the same things the menfolk do.  I don't really want to watch sports on TV.  Ever.   I don't mind going to an actual game.  That is, if the weather is just right I will be happy to go to the game.   The older I get the more I like to stay inside.  I know some of you are outdoorsy.  Good for you. I, however, am not. This means camping is a big NO for me.

When I got married to the Doc, he talked of going camping.  I got the willies just thinking about it.  I told him maybe someday he would have sons and they could go camping together.   Hold that thought.

As a kid, we camped at Yellowstone.  I slept in the van because I just knew a bear was going to get into our tent.   When I was in college, I camped out one night in the middle of a float trip with friends from high school.  It was really fun during the day.  At night, I wanted a bathroom, a shower, some air-conditioning, a tent, and a guarantee that no creature great or small would come within 20 feet of me.  None of these things happened.  There was a raccoon invasion in the middle of the night and a poisonous snake swam through my legs when dragging the boat the next day.  I won't go into my friend's canoe running into a cow and her frightful scream.  I swore that would be my last camping trip.
Alas, it was not. My last camping trip was in 1998 with the Doc.  We had a teeny tiny borrowed tent and our cocker spaniel sleeping between us.  In the middle of the night, a giant raccoon tried to invade our tent on my side and made threatening noises.  You can only imagine my reaction.  I did not sleep too well that night.  Our tent was so small you were touching the outside no matter where you were. The camp had some showers and I was thrilled.  At least I could feel clean, right?  My favorite part wasn't the ice cold water that ran through them.  The wasps swarming above made the cold shower almost unnoticeable.  Have I mentioned my love for bees and wasps? Let's face it.  There is one more little bit of information to share.  When I see camping areas, I am also a little frightened of some of the people living in them. There.  I said it.

Now that we have two sons, I notice that the Doc's interest in camping has waned.  
Guess what my boys have only done once? Camping. Know where they camped? A country club golf course. The Doc is perfectly willing to set the tent up in our game room for campouts. So... you tell me - why do we pretend to love camping? (...or is it just me?)

Mrs. Priss Living up to my name like...