I found this awesome baby camper over at Her Library Adventures, and fell in love. I’m in love with all things baby, except perhaps the thought of birthing one. BLAUGH. I like baby animals but not adult animals. I like baby humans, but feel like kicking adult humans on a daily basis. Once, when I was working as a server at an Irish pub, a co-worker playfully swung at me with his gorilla arms. Seeing that his reach was longer than my own I quickly kicked out at his shin knowing my legs were longer than his arms (barely). He hopped up and down, “That hurt!”
I looked at him, “It was supposed to.”
This made the other girls laugh and for days after they remarked on how I kicked Jimmy. Even playful attempts to touch my neck result in pain. I have a phobia about being choked to death, the phobia resides in the recesses of my mind springing forth to conquer perceived threats, real or not.. Which is probably why I like babies, their hands are too small to actually choke me.
Plus, most babies are cute. And cuddly. Warm and inviting. Like this baby camper.
Did you know you can rent these babies?! I joke about renting a kid all the time to take with me on family reunions, but this would probably be a better rental. Plus I could hide out in it and avoid all my crazy relatives. I discussed these leetle itty bitty cutesy campers with Sara, my best friend, and after some back linking we came across the magazine featuring them. Plus we discovered other camping goodies that bring the comforts of home with you on the road. Like this awesome mattress.
I sit in a cubical all day staring at walls, surrounded by artificial light. So, I kept coming back to this picture of a perfect day, and perfect bed to read on. Protesters making a racket outside drifted up to my floor, the NATO summit right around the corner, and I just really don’t want to be in the city right now. 2012 has been a hard year, and May a long work filled month with some pain filled spots dotting its landscape as well.
There are good spots too. Like the care package my mother sent me, and the flowers that a friend of hers delivered which sit on my desk. I look at the flowers, I look at the bed, I look at my desk piled with files, and I sigh.
Sara understands. Her 2012 has been even rougher than mine.
Me: OK, I want that bed. In that tent. With that sunshine.
Sara: Yeah, me too. I just don’t want to deal with it when it rains, or really any kind of inhospitable weather.
Usually I’m the realist.
Me: Yah, me either.
Sara: Nor do I want to figure out where to put my gear, since that tent is only just big enough for the bed.
Me: You would have a pup tent for gear!
Sara: But my poor rug.
Me: That tent is just for sleeping and reading books!
Sara: And getting dirt everywhere.
Me: Hey! Don’t rain on my glamping parade.
Sara: You are kidding me. Did you just make that up? Please tell me you just made that up
Me: Glamping? No it is on the website.
Me: Why are you headdesking? Have you not heard that term before?
Sara: Do you hear the word? It’s ridiculous
Me: I hear the word.
Sara: It’s sounds uncomfortable.
Me: Um, so say you.
Sara: Yes. So say I.
Sara: Now it is mine head that is smashing the table. And untrue! I make up words all the time.
Me: So you just don’t like other people making up words. You definitely don’t like Wholockians or Narniringians.
Sara: No, I don’t like words for silly things becoming other silly things. Which is a completely arbitrary distinction.
Me: Completely. I think most people have a rediculous threshold, yours is just crossed more quickly than others.
Sara: I kind of hate you now.