I used to be a Scouting Sister: I went with my dad and my brothers to every camp out, sang 'American Pie' with the best of them around a fire, ate S'Mores till my lips stuck together, helped to compose the cheers, and wore short sleeves in 49-degree weather.

I haven't been camping in 2 years. It's not that I didn't want to, it's just that The Boys are now Boy Scouts (as opposed to cute little Cub Scouts), and siblings are banned from Boy Scout Land.

I went camping this weekend.

It has come to my attention that I am no longer sufficiently conditioned for camping: I am used to certain necessities, like brushing my teeth, changing my socks, sleeping in a totally dry bed, and being able to stand up while dressing.
(I've even developed the unhealthy habit of looking in the mirror every 12 hours.)

However, I plan to remedy this very soon.

This year, anyway.

I think I'll start by getting a raincoat.

This isn't to say that I didn't have a good time. I had a blast. I was one of five females under 21 in a camp full of Boy Scouts (who all treated me like a cousin, but whatever. I'll take what I can get.).

And even with the tornado watch on Friday, this years' Camporee could have been a lot worse. The Crew might have had to eat our Adult Advisor, and she does come in rather handy!