Okay. I am not a camper. My idea of roughing it is staying in a hotel without room service. Unfortunately? The Hubs is a camper. sigh. So I’m all “okay I’ll go camping with you. I love you and this could be something we could enjoy together.” Right. As if.
Anyway. Our little, tiny, weeny sports car was loaded. By loaded? I mean crammed full. After we lubed up and squeezed ourselves in? We drive from Vegas to Bryce Canyon. The drive? Was spectacular. The tent pole poking me in the back of the head the entire time? Not so much. We finally get to where we (the Hubs) wants to go. Our little, tiny, weeny sports car? Not so good at off-roading.
The Hubs finds the perfect spot. He sets up the tent. He sets up the camping stove. He finds rocks to encircle the campfire. Our campsite? Was a campsite to behold. Well, it would’ve been if we had been in a campground and there were other people around to see it. We? Are in the middle of the woods somewhere in Utah.
The Hubs: Why don’t you go find some kindling for the fire?
Me: Some what?
Hubs: Kindling. You know? Like little sticks that’ll start on fire quick.
Me: Oh. Like branches that fall off trees and shit?
Hubs: Yes. (sigh)
So I’m all off on an adventure to find some sticks. Just dancin’ around the woods, singing Disney songs. What? Back then all Disney movies were in the woods. Shut up.
Then? Out of nowhere? A snake crosses my path. I’m all screamin’ and jumpin’ around and tryin not to wet my pants. The Hubs finally notices my fit and comes to see what’s wrong. (again – sigh).
Me: A snake! There’s a snake under that bush! It tried to bite me! It’s HUGE! DO SOMETHING!!!
The Hubs picks up a stick and is all poking around in the bush.
Me: Be careful! I’m not takin’ down this camp shit and draggin’ your bitten ass to the E.R.
Still pokin’ the bush. And then? I see movement under the bush. This snake? Came slithering out of the bushes, slithered over the Hubs boot, and slithered away. Also? This snake? Was about 10 inches long. Oops, my bad.
Me: Oh. I guess it wasn’t as big as I first thought. Sorry.
The Hubs: Um yeah. I can’t believed you freaked out over a baby rattlesnake.
So later that night? After s’mores and shit? We are in the tent. Which is on a tarp. Which is on the ground. My sleeping bag? My 7-up bag from when I was a kid. Not so thick and comfy. Or safe. I spent the entire night awake listening for bigger slithering. Because I knew? That baby rattlesnake slid right over to his mama and told him I was all tryin’ to get him killed. Mama rattlesnake was gonna come get me. I just knew it.
The next morning? The Hubs asks me how I slept. Ha.
Me: I didn’t.
Hubs: Why not?
Me: I was waiting for mama rattlesnake to find me.
Hubs: Don’t be ridiculous.
Me: Honey? There are times? When it is perfectly okay to lie to your wife. Yesterday? Would’ve been one of them.
Hubs: Okay. It was just a little garter snake. Better?
Guess how many times I’ve been camping with him since? Jerk.