We are researching caravan parks in preparation for The Great Camping Adventure, which hubby has thrown up for consideration over many months with mounting excitement (not a shared sentiment though).
The resident kuniang (Pampered Princess) is being reluctantly co-opted into an outing that is bound to involve pesky mozzies, summer flies, minimal hygiene, inclement weather conditions and other unmentionables.
What kind of holiday is one without a 5-star resort, pool and luxury spa?
It used to be 2-2, with Beth and I being on the same side (the Dark side, some might say!).
She has somehow fallen under the spell of outdoorsy Dad's tempting tales of going bush, camping under the stars and all that boot camp stuff and straightaway fell to unpacking the tent he had just bought.
She even tried to read the instruction manual, but failed.
And asked me for help.
Which of course was no help at all.
Dad finally came to the rescue.
Father and Daughter eventually worked out how to peg the tent, and got it set up all ready for The Big Day.
In the meantime, Beth and Jordanne can have fun with their new cubbyhouse!
Maybe I should organize a couple of play dates between now and when we go camping...
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