Friday night, I got to camp out for the last time before I leave. Usually, I do it at least once every summer, but the past few have been so busy I haven’t been able to. Next time I think I’ll use the bigger tent, but it was great to look at the stars and see the fireflies.
Camping out in the backyard has been a big thing in my house. We have even camped out in the house when it’s too cold to be outside or when friends are over. But that little pup tent is probably getting too small for me. I can’t even stretch out all the way diagonally. I’d say it’s probably about four feet by four feet or so; a little bit smaller than five foot three me.
And I couldn’t talk about camping without telling a story of when I was five. My sister and I decided we wanted to camp out in the backyard one night. All through the evening my dad kept talking about bears and how we should be careful. Just as soon as it was dark and we were settled into the tent, noises came crawling. It was a bear! Pawing at our tent! We got so scared that we wouldn’t stay outside that night even though that bear was just our dad (There aren’t many bears in Nebraska where we were at the time, but PA there are a few more). I don’t think we’ll ever be able to live that one down and now the rest of the world knows too.
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