We're out kamping again, a spontaneous activity suggested by Pete and wildly endorsed by the fellow inhabitants of the no-vacation-planned-this-summer household. Heading down to Santa Cruz yesterday, less than two hours into the trip, Eldest erupted, bellowing "I'm bored!"
That's the Eldest kid, folks, the purported most mature of the bunch. Think we'll be taking my dream camping vacation anytime soon? The one where we head out with the kids and enough supplies for three weeks of travelling to Yellowstone and Mt. Rushmore and Cheyenne? Nope.
In the meantime, I'll leave you with this visual. [And no accompanying pictures 'cause I forgot my USB connector for the camera.] I'm outside the camper and spot a gopher. I whisper to the kids in the camper that we've got a furry visitor. Eldest zips open the space above his bed to peek out. Daughter crawls up next to him to do the same. Youngest pries himself out of his cozy space and steps outside to hold my hand and look at the gopher. A picture perfect moment.
"You have to be quiet," Youngest says far too loudly.
And Eldest berates Youngest and I berate Eldest and Youngest whinges and Daughter bemusedly watches it all. And the gopher? Shakes his head and goes back into the quiet of his tunnel, doing a spot-on impersonation of Pete.
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