The best decision all weekend

We embarked Friday evening on what was meant to be a two-night camping trip to some inland canyons.

We arrived, pitched the tent, cooked some excellent kabobs over the campfire, toasted marshmallows and snuggled down for the night.

N and I, nestled between slumbering kiddos, aiming flashlights at the pages of the novels we rarely have occasion to read. We listened to a chorus of bullfrogs and crickets sing us to sleep from the nearby riverbed.

That night turned into a restless one for me and after our attempt at brewing morning coffee over the fire next morning went sour, I knew I was in for a long day of feeling fed up with everything.

Then the tots got cranky, the sun grew hotter and the shade diminished.

By 10 a.m. we could see the hand-writing on the wall: All of us were in for a long, hot day of feeling fed up with everything. There would be no cool place for C to nap and really no way to get away from the blazing July sun. We weren't allowed to swim in the river. I would most likely face another uncomfortable night, and then where would we be come Sunday? Sick of camping, indeed.

So we packed up that Saturday morning and inside the refuge of our A/C-equipped vehicle, we headed home, stopping for iced coffees and chocolate milks on the way, of course.

The moment we opened our front door and stepped inside, we knew calling it quits on that camping trip had been the best decision we could have made that day.

The house was tidy, cool and inviting. It beckoned us to unload our smokey gear and fix a lunch of cold sliced fruits and vegetables with fresh turkey sandwiches on crusty bread.

N hosed down the car while L and C splashed in the pool. Then we lumbered upstairs for showers.

After drying and dressing, we each crept into soft beds near open windows and blissfully napped much of the afternoon away.



*Oh, and here are some scenes from the abbreviated camping excursion. We'll venture out again someday ... when it's cooler and I'm a lot less pregnant.