Well, since this is my personal blog, I can write about anything I feel like. You can't stop me.
I promise to go back to the word definitions at some point in time. Today won't be it.
Today is the day I talk about camping with my middle aged parents. I love them. Don't get me wrong, they are wonderful people. But you put them in a stressful (read: anything outside the norm) situation, and both get progressively less sane. It's awesome to watch.
Then, getting set up. They don't remember very well what it was like to have a teenager around, and now they have 2 1/2 teens and a toddler. Somewhere along the lines, a mallet went missing, keys were lost, sunglasses were misplaced, and the littlest one started crying and whining. Awesome. This is why I don't usually go places with my parents. They lose EVERYTHING, and blame someone else.
(Oh, and my mom is obsessed with bears. To the point where every single thing we touch each day ends up packed back into the RV or car each night. That's not time consuming at all.)
Next, both of them started freakin' and peakin' over the amount of "stuff" each kid NEEDED to bring. Where could they possibly store all these things? Um? Tent perhaps. Let the boys deal with their own crap. The baby's stuff has to stay in the RV, but I only packed her a small bag, she can live out of that.
On, and on it went. Finally, they were set for the night and we all went to bed emotionally drained. Everyone was up bright eyed the next day, for a wonderful day at the beach. I stayed two more days, went through several mini crisis situations and tantrums- not the baby- my dad. This morning, I got into my car and just drove away. I'll go back later this week, but only for a day at a time. It's terrifying.