Welcome To Camp Complainsalot

My husband and I used to camp a lot before we had our little one. Once she was old enough, we resumed, splitting the “kiddy” supplies between our backpacks and never going that far, since one of us had to carry her on the back, plus the pack under her “chair” most of the way.

As she got older, we went for longer camping nights and longer hikes. Our oldest wasn’t really exposed to the outdoors as much when she was younger, so the slower “easing into” camping/hiking was good for her, as well.

We made the mistake of camping with a work buddy of my husband’s. Prepared they were not. Well, let me rephrase that: the husband was prepared, but apparently, he had told his wife she needed to be more prepared and she’d shrugged it off, saying:

Buddy’s Wife: “Their five-year-old can do it, so can I. How hard can things be?”

She did not bring the proper weather gear with her, didn’t want to wear the ugly hiking boots (her sneakers were “just fine”), and complained most of the day because she was too tired to go further. Most days we left her at the campsite, which made her even more upset.

Me: “Feel free to leave if you’re having such a bad time.”

Buddy’s Wife: “No, the hike back to the car is too far!”

It turned out to be an eye-opening weekend for the husband, though, because they separated shortly after that. He said her attitude toward everything — plus the attitude she had toward our kids when talking to him in their tent alone — was enough for him to see their future was not going to work.