My husband has a wait problem.

In every relationship there is a give and take, a push and pull, a ying and yang. As much as we would like to have it our way all the time, we can't all be Kate Gossling, right? The key is compromise.

I have just learned the price of our Spain trip (no, it WAS a free trip, but I'll be paying in blood, sweat, and probably tears for many years to come.) You see, my husband didn't really want to go to Spain but he went because I really wanted to go. (Seriously, who turns down a free trip to Spain? Fun-hater.)

The night we got back, however, I learned his brother had found "the perfect camper for us" and I now would be part of a camping family. I had walked into a trap; 3 days in Europe have cost me (at minimum) 3 months of bugs, showering with strangers, and trying to put a 2 year-old to bed in a tiny tinny box.

I understand the whole camping thing. Honestly, I wouldn't be opposed to it if our kids were a tad older...like sleeping in a bed. But it's just too soon to live this nightmare.

Not to get all Dr. Phil but Chad was an ooops baby and is nearly 6 years younger than his closest sibling. He has always been playing catch up through life, and now I too must suffer the consequences. Chad always wants to rush through the present to get to the future; I like hanging out in the here and now. He's already looking forward to retirement while I'm telling our kids they are not allowed to grow up without my permission. It's a very different way of thinking, but we usually can make it work.

His brothers and (older) cousins have been camping for a few years now. I have always been able to hold off on the camper nonsense that Chad has been spouting since we were married. The first year, it only took a look of exasperation (OK, it was the 'Look of Death,' ladies: you know what I mean). Then, a sentence or two denying the practicality of a camper WITH A BABY. By year 3 I was spending the spring talking him down from the ledge. After that, I was drowning in camper talk but had always managed to stay afloat. Until...

Last year, he tricked me at season's end. My guard was down, it was fall. His brother had called and he wasn't using the camper at the site on the Sunday of Labor Day (that's the Sept one, right? I always confuse Labor and Memorial Day...sorry Vets.) We spent the day there. Wait scratch that (memo to self, learn how to strike text like all the cool other bloggers do). I spent the day with the baby while DH drank and watched 4 year-old in pool (yea, that's a GREAT combo, right?) Then baby never went to sleep and we left at the crack of dawn with cranky, hungover husband. I left happy, for I knew all camper talk would be squashed.

But like a villain in bad dinner theatre, this idea just won't die. Husband now has selective memory and 5 year-old is not helping my cause. In fact, let's call her out as the traitor she is. She has gone to the dark side...which is appropriate because the two things she has gotten from my husband are a love of Star Wars and love of camping. If she didn't look like me (and you know wasn't pushed out from my nether regions) I would question my relationship to her.

So, come Memorial Day (or vice-versa) you can be sure to catch me smelling like au de bonfire and bugspray. Yum.

Do campsites have wireless Internet?