Tuesday, June 7, 2011
You get campfire smoke in your face no matter where you sit - smoke follows beauty, you know.
You lay your big fat preggo body on the hard ground to sleep.
You share your pillow with a smelly six-year-old.
You piddle in a toilet that serves as home to hundreds of mosquitoes.
Your children - and loving husband - sing Happy Birthday and tell you the itchy bites on your bum are your birthday present.
You eat s'mores for breakfast.
You hike three miles.
You remove eight ticks from various members of your family.
You bathe the dog.
You do five loads of laundry.
You have three handsome dates for your dinner out.
You eat yummy cake lovingly made by sweet - probably dirty - hands.
You love every single minute of it.
Well, except maybe the tick part.