You might be a camper if …
… within 24 hours, you can’t distinguish your clean clothes from grimies. Clean dishes from dirty ones. Dry possessions from wet ones. And you really don’t care.
… in 97-degree weather with matching humidity, your first thought is “Let’s build a campfire!” Second thought: “Let’s eat blazing marshmallows!”— though you don’t particularly like marshmallows, blazing or otherwise.
… if ice cream from the camp store supplies 97 percent of your family’s daily calcium requirement.
… you don’t blink an eye when said camp store keeps milk, eggs and fish bait in the same fridge.
… cooking dinner using a saucepan lid and a plastic fork comes naturally.
… you follow strict freshness guidelines: If it floats to the top of the cooler, it’s probably not life-threatening.
… your family shares the land with other species with open heart and mind … though environmental empathy may waver if a family of snakes also chooses your campsite.
… in one weekend, you contribute more blood to the area’s mosquitoes than the Red Cross collects in a year.
… the sight of a bugless bathroom moves you to tears.
… all the money saved in camping rather than staying in a posh resort is spent on calamine.
… you swim in 52-degree water with your kids or grandkids at 6:30 a.m. (“You promised, Grandma!”)
… the pop-up camper collapses and you permit your spouse to convince you this is part of the adventure.
… having experienced sufficient family time, you strike private deals with the park ranger to lock spouse and kids inside the Nature Center.
Sceptics, having reviewed the above, question, “Why would anyone in her/his right mind leave a clean, convenient, air-conditioned home to vacation in the wilds?”
Campers aren’t in their right minds. (You haven’t deduced that yet?)
Still, though buggy, beleaguered, and occasionally not too bright, if you are a camper, you are uniquely blessed.
Now, you fill in the blank: You might be a camper if …