Visions of Camping Trips Danced in Their Heads

Somebody told me it was frightening how much topsoil we are losing each year, but I told that story around the campfire and nobody got scared. --Jack Handey

Since the recent wealth of warm weather Naomi's imagination has fixed on camping.

We had planned to take out the tent last summer. I'm not entirely certain what happened, but our plans abruptly changed. A few hours prior to the camping trip I stumbled upon Naomi amdist a gaggle of her cousins. Hushed, excited chatter rose steadily from their tight-cousin-huddle. I forget sometimes that I am the grown up. The kill-joy who walks up and and bursts the bubble. "What's going on here?" I asked without finesse. The kids responded like dry rice spilling on the floor crackling out shushh-es as they scattered. Naomi stood eerily still with eyes wide. She quickly burst into tears and clung to my chest.

Camping was too scary, she said between heaves and sobs. We, we just couldn't go. We couldn't go camping. McKibbin unpacked the tent from the trunk of his car. The ice in the cooler melted. We stayed home. Draw your own conclusions as to what happened there.

This year, however, a brave and bold Naomi has gone to Kindergarten. She has turned six. She hasn't huddled with her cousins in months. She is amping up for a summer camping trip. At bedtime Naomi asked if she could practice by sleeping on the floor tonight.

"No," I said. "Generally people sleep on the floor when they do not have a bed. You have a bed. You should sleep in it."

Naomi was quick to retort Sleeping on the floor would be more fun. I bet rich people sleep on the floor all the time. It saves money. She sleeps, now, in her bed. But on the rich people saving money jag I stand corrected.