We bought our tent back in 2006. The kids were younger and we
wanted everyone in the same tent so we bought a big tent.
Like, in the bag it comes in has wheels because it's so heavy,
kind of big.
We named it the Taj-Mahal and it has served us well.
The kids are older now, the Island Girl has put a complete stop to
any camping on her part and the boys have each moved out and into
their own one-man tents.
So a few weeks ago the Island King and I were looking at the
Taj-Mahal and talking about downsizing a little.
We don't need a giant tent anymore but we both agreed that we're
too old for those little bitty tents so we wanted something we could
stand up in.
Basically, half of the Taj-Mahal.
I came home from the store a few days later and he tells me to
come and look at the new tent he bought.
“You bought a new tent? Without even showing it to me?”
“You're gonna love it!” he tells me.
“It's a Tee Pee and there is plenty of room to stand up.”
Ooooookay.
The new tent arrived and we took it to Tower Camp to try it out.
Well, it certainly is smaller but when I said I wanted to downsize
this is NOT what I meant.
He keeps calling it a tee pee but in reality it's a gnome tent
shaped like a tee pee.
He set up our army cots and that left approximately 3 inches to
stand up in.
I was not liking the new tent at all but thinking that maybe I'd
get used to it.
Then – it happened...
The door of the tent is only 3 feet high and as I was coming out
my head brushed the opening of the door and the zipper caught my
hair.
I tried to untangle myself but that only made things worse.
I called the Island King over and he tried to pull my hair out of
the zipper. The opening is only 3 feet tall so I'm kind of bent
over/hanging there and am getting madder by the minute.
And then I heard him open his knife.
“WAIT!! What are you doing? This is the hair directly on top of
my head – you can't cut it!”
Which is when my sweet husband said “You've got plenty of hair,
no one will notice” and sliced my hair with the knife.
I was free and madder than a wet hen. Out of the tent I fell,
jumped up and proceeded to throw a fit like I haven't thrown in
years.
It. Was. Ugly.
The tirade ended with me declaring that I will NEVER sleep in that
stupid little gnome tent again.
The boys were laughing hysterically and the Island King just shook
his head.
I heard him talking to his new tent later, telling it not to
listen to me and that it is a real tee pee and he'll use it when he
goes hunting and I'm not there.
As far as I'm concerned he can sleep in his “tee pee” whenever
he wants but I am moving back into the Taj-Mahal.
I've always called myself a “glamper” - which means I love to
camp but I don't like to rough it so I don't think downsizing was
such a good idea after all.Labels: Done
