Labor Day weekend.

We went on an impromptu camping trip for labor day weekend. We dragged my mom and dad along with us.

We went to a spot up American Fork Canyon called Forest Lake. It is accessible only by off-road vehicles. We had to take the Jeep up. My husband, and my kids love taking the Jeep. Sam goes every year to Jeep Safari weekend in Moab. They love it!

I don't like the Jeep. I hate my hair in my face and my eyes and my mouth. I can't take the dust and the heat. But more than that, I don't like the hairy trails that we go on. And really, I don't understand why Sam felt compelled to take this trip. His Jeep isn't fixed from his last fiasco. It is technically only a two wheel drive right now, and with some thing-a-ma-bob he put on the wheels, it is only a one wheel drive. He explained the thing-a-ma-bob to me in great detail, and for survival purposes I blocked him out. Jeep talk is worse than an insurance salesman droning on....and on....and on....


Sure enough, about half way there, Sam scraped over a boulder and dropped his driveline. After we got it fixed, we had my dad tow us through the rest of the bad spots. Don't tell Sam I told you that. Somehow, being towed by someone else is damaging to your manhood.

We got there, and my mom and I threw tinfoil dinners in the fire while the men set up the tent. The tinfoil dinners were good. At least most of them. A couple were a little over-cooked and the meat was "butt-hard"--Jayden, 10.

One roasted hot-dog per year is all my arteries will allow.
Nothing like a good toasted marshmallow, though. I ate plenty of those.

They proceeded to blow up the air mattresses, one of which had a hole. Heeeeere is your bed, kids! Heh, heh. We went to bed, not to sleep, but to freeze all night...The joys. Not to mention, when Sam rolled over, it would literally fling me, and sharing a sleeping bag with a man is never recommended--what with the fondling and the gas.

The next morning the kids put their swimming suits on and waded all day in the disease infested puddle of a lake. It is quite pretty from a distance, but when you get closer, it is thick and green, and full of these slimy hideous creatures. We called them newts, but some other little boy who was there with his family called them salamanders. I am not really sure what they are. They were half fish and half lizard. So glad I brought hand sanitizer and wipes.

"Mom, here is how you catch a newt. You look at the water, and you see it turn into rings, then you look in the middle of the rings, and there will be a newt, wobbling. Then you can just grab it, it won't try to escape, cause they are kinda dumb."--Shayne, 7.

I am not a clean freak by any means. But one day and one night of camping is all I can muster. The next morning I was packing up as soon as I got up. All I kept thinking of was a hot shower. I am so not pioneer material. Neither is my mom. She hadn't been camping for 20 years. It had only been about 10 for me. I don't think either one of us is sad about what we might have missed out on all these years.

So, today...I am still doing the laundry from the camping trip. Shianne left her good leather sandals "behind that tall gray rock." I am still digesting that hot dog, and I still have dirt in my nose, which manifests itself each time I blow.

Good holiday weekend fun had by almost all.