Sunday, October 9, 2016

A Boo-tiful Weekend

All of these kids belong to us. A few aren't pictured. 


We decided to take a weekend off from being responsible homeowners and camp our worries away. We headed to Poor Farmers with some of the usual suspects for a spooktakular time. 

Everyday is Halloween for most campgrounds during the month of October. If you have trick-or-treat aged kids then you should hit up any of the local campgrounds. But good luck getting a site because these places fill up months in advanced. 

Not Poor Farmers though. They are a first come first served kind of campground. Our people are much better planners and took their campers over a few days early, therefore saving us a spot. 
 This is how serious we are about camping:

We make maps. 

Here's what it looks like. 


Remember twenty two years ago when Dan gave me a quarter to put air in my tires and then we had dinner, eloped in South Dakota, and lived happily ever after?  Dan informed me that he stopped at a Walmart gas station to put air in our camper tires and it cost him $1.75. He said, and I quote, "that's absolutely ridiculous that this country charges almost two dollars for air. You're lucky it was only a quarter twenty two years ago. I'm not sure I would have been willing to make that big of an investment." 
To which I replied, "I'm sure it's Obama's fault. Too bad we voted for him. Twice." 
And that's what we do. We blame all bad happenstances on Obama, Trump, and/or Hillary. 

Here's a rundown of the weekend highlights. 

1. Chewy did not attend or was not invited, however you want look at it. Max bowed out and stayed home due to the fact that he had to work and that he's sixteen. This allowed us to camp dog free. It was awesome. 

2. Dan and I entered a cornhole tournament. We came in third. Mike and Chad came in first. To give you an idea of how big it was, we all paid $5.00 to enter and Chad and Mike walked away with $7.50 each. 


3. Trick-or-Treating. 
Imagine over a hundred kids, ranging between the ages of recently delivered and 18, dressed up and walking from camper to camper to partake in America's favorite childhood holiday. The age limit says 0-14, but if a child (teen) is willing to dress up using a little effort, who are we to deny a snack sized snickers bar? 

Here is Camper Dan, passing out candy. And being Kiss. Kinda. 

I will say that I was impressed with the effort that went into the costumes and decorations. 





Tommy is fifteen and thought his chances of trick-or-treating were over until the girls decided he would be Theodore from Alvin and the Chipmunks. 

To the youth of America: NEVER STOP BEING A KID! Adulting kinda sucks. You need to fight for every single perk that comes along with being a kid. This includes being silly, painting your face, and not being an asshole. I just feel that "not being and asshole" is a rule that is never stressed enough. 

4. Camper decorations. 
I will admit I dropped the ball on this. I thought about doing it up right with lights, cobwebs, monsters, a fake graveyard, the whole works. I decided instead to put a skeleton tablecloth on my picnic table and call it a day. However some people went all out. 


5. The Haunted House 
Poor Farmers wasn't about to stop the fun there, much later, when it was dark and all the undead arose from the fields, they set up a very impressive haunted house. Yes, there were chain saws and clowns. No, nobody was hurt, although there may have been a few little boys who cried...  just a little. 

6. Jeff-Ray 
There's always that one neighbor. You know, the one who brings your party to a whole new level, the kind of level you have read about or seen in the movies. Jeff-Ray walked into our campground and asked if we didn't mind turning our music up. The following night he returned with a handle of Fireball and stories about his failed marriage, heartbroken at the age of seventeen when his wife emptied his bank account Crown Royal change bag and never looked back. You can knock Jeff-Ray down but he's gonna get back up because he's a lover of life...and FireBall. In case you don't believe him, he wears a Fireball t-shirt and has a tattoo of a fireball. That's commitment. 

To the youth of America: be a Jeff-Ray when it comes to making life fun but don't forget that using a banking institution is always in your best interest (currently around 1%). Also stay in school, hold off on marriage at seventeen, and never forget: don't be an asshole. 

7. Fire 
It got cold. I'm not sure if it's Hurricane Matthew's fault or Obama/Trump/Hillary's but the winds were wicked this weekend. I pretty much stood in the same place, about four inches away from the two rings we put together. At one point Dan told me that he thought I stood in the same place for five hours. Camping time doesn't work like regukar time so I'm pretty sure he was over exaggerating, it was more like three. 

We went through a lot of wood this weekend. 

A big shout out to Matt and his awesome DJ'ing skills! He reminded us of how amazing the 90s were, which we proved by singing almost every single word. I would say I haven't danced like that in a while but I'd be lying. My kitchen should have a disco ball for all the impromptu dance parties Dan and I have because I like to remind my boys what we did before everyone whipped and nae naed (which I also do to show that I'm still current). 

Good food, good drinks, good people, and always lots of laughter. When you are camping, family are friends and friends become family. 

Camper Dan