I Don't Like Camping Anymore -- It's Just Like Home but Dirtier and More Difficult

Beginning of the year, planning time off. Wife and kids tell me we need to go camping, since we didn't the past two summers. Fine. I spend a few hours finding suitable sites to meet as many of their individual preferences as I can. We picked a coastal site because we figured (correctly) that the mountains would be too dry for campfires even in the early summer.

I booked the campsite.

I made sure there were plenty of things for the kids to do there: creek, playground, Junior Ranger program, beach access, nature trails.

I planned the meals, with input from the family.

The day before the trip, I brought out all the camping gear I could think of. This was after working a full shift at work, helping my son feed his snake, and shopping for groceries. Usually my wife gives me a list, but this time she didn't because she was "too busy" with a creative writing project.

The morning of the trip, I loaded all the gear into the car and into the rooftop carrier while my family lounged around the house. My wife did prepare some of the food, but she was on her computer while I packed it all into the cooler.

My son drove us to the campground, which was nice because I could doze a bit in the car. But when we got there, the kids went off to play. My wife set up her "camp kitchen," which is something she enjoys; we have a foldable table with "cupboards" underneath and lots of little organizers for supplies. I put up the tents and arranged the air mattresses. The pump was broken, so I had to go buy a new one (I was NOT blowing up four air mattresses by hand, especially the big one). The store only had manual pumps or the kind that have to be plugged into a wall outlet indoors. I also bought matches (we forgot those), but I did not yet know about the missing beach towels, the missing carving knife (for the watermelon), or the broken water jug. Not having these things was, of course, my fault.

Got firewood. Brought it back to camp. Wife cooked the foil dinners, using more firewood than expected, so I had to go get more. She went to bed early. I was exhausted, but I still stayed up to tell the kids stories around the campfire and then put them to bed.

Next morning, I'm up early to make hotcakes over another fire. Beach day. Not terrible.

Today, we came home. I was responsible for coaching the kids through packing their stuff, deflating their air mattresses, and at least attempting to roll up their sleeping bags, then finishing what they couldn't do. I was responsible for taking down and packing the tents. I loaded everything into and onto the car again.

When we got home, my wife made sure the kids helped unload the stuff and bring it inside. I did my part of that. I also put everything away, ran the dishwasher, and coached the kids through unpacking their things.

Then I got in trouble for not giving my wife thanks and praise for her efforts to get the kids to help unload.

Camping is just too much work. The kids enjoyed most of it, especially finding the salamander in the creek who didn't mind being picked up and admired. But this wasn't a family camping trip. This was me going camping and bringing four other people along.

/rant