So last night, before we went out for our traditional Christmas Chinese food dinner, we decided to set up our new tent in the backyard and spend the night inside. A three-room Coleman camping tent, it is far more expansive than anything we’ve owned in the backpacking category.
Post-dinner, stuffed with black bean sauce and green beans, we retired to the tent for the night. After we had set out the air mattress, the sleeping bags, and little camp table, the lantern and the heater–all new, except for the 20-year old sleeping bags–my husband said,”Should we bring in the dog bed in for Winston? He’s gonna be lonely in the house.”
No, forget him, I said, but of course we then put the dog bed in the tent, and soon after, we brought out the dog–all 115 pounds of him.
And that was when our plan began to go terribly wrong.
First, we put the dog in a”down” on his bed, but then the dog got the idea he would be warmer if he came onto the air mattress with us. So Winston took a flying leap into the middle of the air mattress, curled up against my legs, and went to sleep.
Except my husband couldn’t sleep, cause the dog had pinned down his sleeping bag.
So we all had to make some adjustments.
From that point on it was
- moving the dog back to his mattress
- the dog sneaking back onto the bed when we were both asleep
- me waking up in some contorted shape with my hands killing me
- the dog crying at 1 am when i went into the house to get my wrist braces and go to sleep
- my husband taking him inside to me at 1:45
- and finally, the sprinkler system waking my husband when it watered the tent at 3 am
At 6:30, when I awoke this morning, my husband and the dog were both asleep in the bedroom with me, and the empty tent was out on the lawn with puddles of water on the doorsteps.
And when we all woke up, we started laughing.