Camping. It's a weird thing.

Last week while we camped at the lovely Holland State Park I got to thinking about the act of Camping.

You see I did not grow up participating in this activity. My father wouldn't step foot in a camper, (he probably wouldn't fit). He wouldn't be able to tell you what a "dough boy" was, or a "hobo pie." We spent our summer vacations at the cottage, by the lake with fully functioning toilets.

You can imagine the mockery I sustained when I told my family that I was going camping.
While I was growing up on Payne Lake, my husband was growing up in a tent on a remote Michigan campground and enjoying it to the fullest.

Dan wanted to recreate that kind of fun for our kids. Thanks to a friend with a fabulous camper we set out for family fun.

Here were a few observations I had about camping:

• Campsites are pretty close together. No where else would I want to eat, drink, and sleep that close to perfect strangers. But when you are camping it doesn't seem to matter that I was walking around in my PJs for all the world to see-- at 10am.
  
• Showering. It doesn't seem as necessary as it does at home. Why bother when the shower water just might be lukewarm and you have to push the button every five seconds to keep up a steady stream.
• Meals. Food cooked over an open flame just tastes better in a campground that on the grill at home.
• Exercise. I didn't wake up in the morning thinking that I would climb a sand dune that day. My sons tricked me into it I tell you. I think I may have got more physical activity in that week than I had in a long time. Embarassing, yes.
• The convenience of an indoor potty does not out weigh the gross-ness of emptying out the "black water" at the end of the week. Black water, Gray water, fresh water, who knew? I was such a camping rookie.

We enjoyed the week. So much.