After a long, hot morning at the Farmer's Market and a sultry afternoon "Diving for Dollars" at the local pool (which was more like diving for pennies) on Saturday, we rested, had a quick dinner at home, set up our tent (almost effortlessly) and returned to the pool for an evening swim.
By the time Thing Two and I got into to the tent for our big night out he was, by his own admission, exhausted. But that didn't stop him from asking me to bring my iTouch into the tent. "The battery is low," I told him.
So the iTouch came into the tent, but we only listened to music; no games. Our evening was pleasant, if a bit stuffy by morning. There's a street lamp right next to our yard, so it didn't even get really dark in out tent, which I found disappointing.
Eventually, the humidity woke us around 6:30 in the morning, prompting us (read: me) to pack up the tent by 7:00, in plenty of the time for the wicked storm that passed through hours later.
One unexpected surprise from our campout was my son finding a sizable wasp nest in our yard. The nest is right next to our raspberry patch; I can't believe we missed it. Clearly, whenever we've been picking them in the last week or so, we were so focused on our task that we didn't look around.
Sadly, this means our adventure didn't end of a very "green" note, because last night, I grabbed a can of completely poisonous, highly toxic wasp spray and hopefully did them little guys (gals?) in. We simply cannot co-exist in our backyard.We he was adventurous preschooler, I chided my son for stomping on bugs on the sidewalk. "The outside is their home," I'd explain. When he saw me kill and ant (or five) during their annual spring invasion into our kitchen, he questioned my actions. "Ah, but this is our home," I'd say.
Sorry wasps! I know your keen sense of smell makes you an asset in many cases. In fact, I'd happily keep you and train you to replace drug sniffing dogs if I had the facilities, but I don't. You'll have to find a new home, preferably several blocks away.
Note: edited to add photos.