Bonus Room Campout

I woke up in a tent Saturday morning. I wasn't camping out. Rather, I was camping in.

Camping out in style and inside.

Graham and I enjoyed a bonus room campout this weekend with our full-sized tent claiming the majority of open floor space. It was Erica and my attempt to lift G's spirits. Based on his inability to remain still as we set the tent up, it's fair to say our efforts worked.

Graham stayed with friends during Erica's midwife appointment Friday afternoon. He left in a saddened state. His buddy would be camping out with his dad that night at a nearby park, and Graham wanted to go. We decided to do the next-best thing. If you prefer to avoid near-freezing temperatures as I do, you might say we did the even-better thing.

Having run, jumped, and danced through the upstairs of the house as bedtime neared, Graham calmed down enough to change into his pajamas and brush his teeth. Having done the same myself already (well, minus the running, jumping, and dancing), I waited for Graham aside the tent with the stage all set for our overnight adventure. He emerged from his bedroom and trudged slowly down the hallway with a pillow under one arm and dragging Curious George in his free hand. I took a mental picture of a an image that warmed my heart.

The tent served as our sleeping quarters Friday night and as fuel for Graham's imagination in the morning. It functioned as a baseball field one moment, a rocket ship the next ("The stars are beautiful!"), and an airplane in another instance.

My first father-son camping memory involved a pup tent, lots of rain, and a leaky roof. That introduction to the great outdoors as an elementary school kid then may explain my preference for the great indoors now. The toasty temperatures and pumpkin pancake breakfast that awaited us in the morning (Thanks babe!) further made the case for bonus room camping as the way to go. Or to stay.