I found myself babbling to the cashier at the grocery store today—not that this is unusual, really—about how you spend the early years of a kid’s life exhorting them to please, pleeeeeeease, EAT SOMETHING, and then they become teenagers and as you’re having your weekly heart attack in the checkout line, you wish they would eat just a little less. Today was worse, though, because we’re gearing up for a camping trip, so in addition to the usual cartload of stuff, I also had an obscene number of bags of chips and boxes of ice cream treats.
What? It’s CAMPING. Calories don’t count while you’re camping. EVERYONE knows that.
There are many things about raising teens that I didn’t expect and/or don’t entirely fill me with joy, but camping with older kids is actually one of my favorite things. Don’t believe me? I wrote about our family camping rules today over at Alpha Mom. Unlike the rules here at home (so unfair! so MEAN!), the kids don’t seem to have a problem with the rules on the road.