Black Water

I'm on vacation this week. I wish I could say I was spending a few months in Greece, but I've only got a week so I'm just hanging locally. We just got home from a little camping adventure in our "White Trash Weekend" trailer. It's been years since we've taken that thing out, and it's the first time my 4 year old got to come along. It was quite the learning experience for all of us. Here are some examples-

All of the other camper-trailers made in the early 1970's have been destroyed by now, or are living in hidden places guarded by guns and dogs.

Surrounded by newer and considerably bigger versions of the RV family, we stood out like a hitch-hikers thumb. I loved it. White trash power activate!

If some day you find an extra can-opener in the kitchen drawer, it probably came from the camper.

Few things suck more than trying to open a can of baked beans with a Diva Picnic army knife, so I pussy'd out and went to the on-site general store to buy a replacement can-opener. (Yeah, this wasn't a real camping trip.) For some backwards ass reason, there were plenty of apple corer's, measuring spoons and potato peelers, but not a single, useful can-opener. I couldn't believe that I could buy an ironing board cover and gerbil food, but nothing to open my can O' vegetarian beans. So then I had to crawl barefoot over to the urban professional campers next door to borrow theirs. When I was done, I scratched my ass and farted and left without saying thank you.

Crapping in a real toilet is a privilege I've been taking for granted.

I'm currently living with 4 year old who is completely enthralled with all things potty. Everywhere we go, we have to check out the bathrooms. I'm certain that the biggest thrill of this whole camping trip for him was the toilet in our camper. We've never even used it before, but since that's all he's been telling his friends about, we indulged him with a little pee-pee a la closet. I have to admit, it was kind of convenient not having to walk way down to the public bathroom and wait in line. And it was great when I was too chicken to walk down by myself in the dark when the urge to purge struck after dinner. BUT. It also totally sucked. My ass is too big to squeeze cheese in a Barbie sized throne that doesn't really flush. Every 2 seconds or so, a preschooler would open the unlockable door to see how everything was going. And then there's the end-of-trip emptying of the cache, which leads me to the next thing I learned- the smelly, frightening and comedic technique of dumping "black water," and about a product called "Break-Up Plus" which is a "solid waste liquefier" you're supposed to add to your whatever-you-call-it so it empties easier. We didn't do that. Fun.

Just wear the fucking sunscreen.

I love the sun. I hate sunscreen. I don't know why. It's kinda like wearing a condom or something. When I'm in the sun, I want the sun in direct contact with my skin. Yes, I know the sun rays can be damaging and I could die from skin cancer, blah blah blah. I've been good about protecting the innocent and vulnerable skin of my children, but I just don't want it for myself. Now my shoulders and thighs are totally fried after spending all day kayaking on the river yesterday, and it was painful sleeping last night. But it IS my own fault so I'll not complain. Too much.

Now I'm going to go shower and try to get the campfire smell out of my hair before I run off to do some kid-free gambling, drinking and smoking for a few days. And crapping in private.