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So, in honor of Labor Day and the countless hours, days and years put in by the working man/woman, I spent my Labor Day weekend working to:
- pack up a household worth of stuff for a three day camping trip
- erecting and tearing down tents
- scavenging for firewood
- being bitten up by bugs
- choking on smoke from trying to start/sustain a fire
- sleeping (or not sleeping) on uncomfortable surfaces
- and spending all sorts of money to “have everything we need” for a three day campout.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed the time with my family, but all the crap that goes with it just makes me think, ‘Camping…yeah, but why?’ I could have also enjoyed the time with my family at a nice cushy hotel, or heck, even in my own house.
Instead, we go camping, but can it really be called camping when your wife makes you bring her Keurig coffee maker along? These are the days that make me question my sanity.