Making Memorial Day Memories

This past weekend, Lonnie and I went camping with our church. Except there really weren't that many people, but we got to know the youth pastor and some of the teens better. Also, it was COLD. As in raining and in the 40's in the daytime. We were not expecting it to be that cold and our air mattress had no insulation. That first night as I huddled in one sleeping bag with my husband and placed another one on top of both of us (which sounds more fun then it is), I bemoaned our cold weather fate. My husband, trying to comfort me, said something to the effect that some Memorial days are cold. That is when I lost it.

"No, they aren't! Every Memorial Day, my brother roasts himself for 3 days on a boat and dramatically increases his chance of skin cancer. Every Memorial Day, my dad grills outside in his Hawaiian blue shirt and shorts and we eat outside in the heat and love it."

"I meant, some Memorial Days are cold and wet in Montana."

"I know, I just had to whine."

My husband then continues to be all encouraging and calls me a trooper. Which was the dog's name of one of the families there, but I got the idea.

The next day, we drove back to town and bought some camping foam sheet things that kept us MUCH warmer that night. That is when my husband starts talking about how cold and horrible it was the night before.

"Wait a minute, I thought you were OK, you were all this is great last night."

"Yeah, I wanted you to not feel so bad."

At which point I feel like a real heel. Later that day, a small boy presented us with his snail that he found and was his new pet. Later as we walked by him, we overheard the new pet being instructed, "Gary, get back in your shell!"