Author: whoshallJudgeAngels PM
What will happen when Adalia's dream camping trip is jeapordized by rain, squabbling siblings, and burnt sausage? This is her story, based on a true one that was my own.Rated: Fiction K - English - Family/Humor - Words: 1,249 - Reviews: 1 - Favs: 1 - Published: 06-23-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3035200
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
The biggest mistake of all my ten years on this earth was to beg my parents to go camping. I started needling them in early June, and got what I wanted sometime in July. One night at dinner, Mom and Daddy announced that they were going to buy a camper and that we would spend one glorious week at New River Campground. This was met with mixed reactions. I (at the moment) was very happy, and my elder brother Mathew appeared quite content. However, Uma, my oldest sibling, groaned and buried her head in her hands; she completely loathes the outdoors. Daddy gave her a stern look, then smiled at Mathew and me, remarking, "Well, it looks as if most of us are exited".
For the next couple of days, everyone was busy. Daddy (who would be having his week's vacation for this expedition) bought a cheap canvas-walled popup camper from old Mr. Fisherbock. It was so cool. There was a little stove that looked like two Bunsen burners; a small refrigerator; a sink that we would hook up to the water at the campground; and two sides of the camper were beds! Mom and Daddy would have one, I (unfortunately) would be sharing with Uma, and Mathew would be bunking out on the floor. Anyways, so Daddy and Mathew and I mostly fixed up the camper: putting in curtains, cleaning the sink and refrigerator, patching the holes in the canvas with silicone, stuff like that. Uma helped Mom get camping supplies and fix some food. They got lanterns, paper plates and plastic cutlery, a pair of water shoes for each of us (mine were pink), a plastic tablecloth, hamburger buns, and vanilla cream soda. It seemed like ages to me before we got in the car to drive to the campground. That was when the disasters began.
Oh, okay. I have to admit that the first day went pretty smoothly. After we got the camper set up and everything settled in, Mathew and I poked around the lot while Uma sat at our picnic table, bemoaning her horrid fate and her primitive, savage-brained family. Primitive indeed! There was even running water, and proper bathrooms nearby. Our camper was parked on solid cement, there was a gravel area with that picnic table she was sitting on, and the most meager amount of forest before the next lot, and here Uma was saying it was downright uncivilized! Hmph. I would really like to see her if we ever go tent camping, way out in the woods. We may be sisters, but I will never understand her.
That night, Daddy put the tabletop barbecue on the picnic table and grilled some hamburgers that we ate with pickles. The burgers were delicious, dripping with juice and cheese, loaded with ketchup and mustard, and draped with onions. The pickles were tart and crisp, like, in my opinion, pickles should always be. I can't help it... I love food... After dinner, we all sat around a fire that Daddy had managed to get going in a hurry, and roasted marshmallows as well as the flame would permit. We would be able to make a better fire tomorrow, I thought, and this one works just as well. Listening to Mom tell a ghost story, I felt wonderfully scared, and cheerful. I actually thought that camping would work out after all.
Next morning, I woke to the smell of burning sausage. Mom was trying to save breakfast and not step on the still-sleeping Mathew at the same time. The door was open, letting in the cool seven o'clock air. I somehow managed to get dressed in bed, and then I scooted out of the camper right smart, kicking my brother's arm for good measure. He woke up grumbling that it was too early to be awake, and that's when Mom lost her patience and yelled at him to get off the floor and out of the camper. He stumbled out, sleepy-eyed, and went off to the public bathrooms. Uma had gotten up earliest, besides Mom and Daddy, and was sitting at the picnic table, doing something on her phone. Daddy sat next to her, an amused look pervading his face every time he glanced at Mom through the camper's open door. I sat next to him and asked, "Why is Mom so grumpy? She yelled at Mathew."
"Well, Adalia, Mom is a mite stressed now. Imagine if you were trying to keep the grub from burning and having to try not to step on someone as well. It would be a bit like a tightrope act at the circus, except that it's a real situation, so that's why she's got her dander up", he expounded, winking as he said the word "dander". I couldn't help laughing.
After a breakfast of burnt sausage, bread-and-butter, and vanilla cream soda (which Mom almost didn't let us drink, but she had forgotten to bring milk), I spent one and a half painful hours doing nothing. After making us wait all that time, Mom told us that we were going hiking. Uma practically threw a fit, and Daddy got upset and told her that if she didn't like it, she could stay behind all by herself... and get a fire going. That shut her up! As we found the hiking trail and embarked on it, she stayed at the back of the group, pouting. I, on the other hand, took the lead and scouted for birds, trying to name each one I saw, which Mathew could do better than me, to my dismay. I also looked for unusual plants, especially those short ones that looked like upside-down green umbrellas. I would imagine about how God came up with all the ideas for different kinds of plants. My reverie was often interrupted by a shreik from Uma, who was scared of every living creature from squirrles to gnats.
We had hiked about a mile when Mathew decides to ruin everything for us and trips over a root. I was so cross that I didn't even care that he was obviously in pain as he limped over to a tree to lean against it. Mom and Daddy hovered over to him and examined his ankle while he tried to act okay. I was so upset that I didn't even look for birds and plants on the way back, which was alot slower and difficult than the hike out, as Mom and Daddy helped Mathew along between them. When we're almost off the trail, I notice it's started to rain. Wonderful!, I think. Now we can't even build a fire! By the time we reach the camper, we're all drenched, and by the time we're dry, it's positively pouring outside. Squashed in the camper, we eat a sandwhich lunch and wait out the afternoon; me, for one, hoping to high heaven that it wouldn't rain tomorrow. For now, I would have to try to keep my food down as Mathew, with ice on his ankle and still cheerful, tells the longest, worst, and most disgusting bear story I'd ever heard.
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