Reason #5,938 Why I don’t Like Camping
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I am not a happy camper. Actually, I am not a camper at all.
Don’t get me wrong. I LOVE the Great Outdoors and all. I just like coming back to a nice hotel room after all the bird watching and hiking. I’ll even settle for a rustic cabin with earwigs under the bed.
Ever heard the jokes about how camping makes no sense? You work hard all year so you can take your vacation and then spend it like a homeless person…pitching a tent and braving the elements.
No, thanks.
What do I need to prove by pitching a tent and sleeping among the Grizzlies and the serial killers? You can’t put a dead bolt on a tent, can you? I didn’t think so.
And now I have reason #5,938 why I don’t like camping.
It’s a sad and a true story.
A 56-year-old woman was camping in
This is a very tragic story. It makes me sad, actually.
But I must use it as yet another reason why I can’t get myself to go camping. Yes, it’s true. The roof of the cabin could collapse. Or a tree could fall through a window and kill me as well.
It may be an irrational fear I have, but it’s one that I won’t be shaking anytime soon.
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