“Good. I’ll just grab my purse and lock the front door and we’ll hit the road.”
“But…”
She whirled on him. “But what? Isn’t this the appeal of having a camper? We can just take off whenever the mood strikes us?”
“Yeah, but sugar, we don’t have any food or supplies.”
She flapped her hand at him. “Minor details.”
Maybe she planned to stop at the grocery store on the way to the lake.
But she insisted they check into the campground to secure a good spot. Once they’d paid the fees and parked, everyone was hungry and there wasn’t so much as a breath mint in the camper to feed four hungry boys and two adults. So they trekked to the marina convenience store and bought thirty bucks worth of food.
They roasted hot dogs and marshmallows over the campfire. The kids ate every bit of it.
When bedtime rolled around, Carolyn insisted he sleep with the boys in the bunk; she worried one of them would fall off in the middle of the night. She and Austin took the bedroom and they all slept in their clothes since no one had remembered to bring pajamas.
The next morning Carson returned to the marina convenience store and bought thirty bucks worth of donuts, milk and juice, which the boys devoured in one sitting. Since Carolyn didn’t swim, she kept Austin in the camper with her.
The boys had brought swimming trunks, but no towels, so after they’d exited the water they’d had to dry off in the sun. Upon returning to the camper, once again the boys were starved.
Instead of traipsing back to the overpriced convenience store, Carson pulled up stakes and they drove into town for lunch. When neither their grandsons nor Carolyn seemed too keen on camping another night, they dropped the boys off and headed home.
Home. It was a pretty nice place to be. After polishing off a half a dozen cookies, Carson plopped in his easy chair to watch TV.
So the camping experiment hadn’t gone too well the first time. Next time they’d be more prepared. He’d drifted into a mental road map of the places he’d like to visit when Carolyn snatched the remote out of his hand.
He looked up to see her planted in front of him, wearing her pissed-off face.
“How long have we been married?”
He opened his mouth to answer and she cut him off.
“In all those years have I ever told you it was my fondest dream to own an RV and travel the country?”
Shit.
“No, I haven’t. You know why? Because that is my idea of hell. That is the single most asinine thing you’ve ever…” She made a huffing noise and leaned forward to jab her finger into his chest. “You don’t cook, so who would be responsible for all the meals? Me. You don’t clean, so who would be responsible for keeping the camper tidy? Me. You don’t grocery shop, so who would be responsible for stocking the camper pantry? Me. How is that a fucking vacation for me, Carson McKay? It isn’t. And it makes me think that you don’t know me at all if you believe I’d want that nomadic life. Our life is here. Not with strangers at some senior citizens RV park playing bridge and comparing pictures of our grandkids. How the hell much did that camper cost?” She jabbed him in the chest again. “For that kind of money, we could fly wherever we wanted. We could stay at a five star hotel. We could eat at a different restaurant every night and still have money left over to do it again…ten or fifteen more times! That is a vacation. Dragging the whole damn house with us so I can cook and clean in an itty bitty space while you watch satellite TV in your plush captain’s chair ain’t gonna happen. Ever.”