It starts out with my mom telling me late the night before that we were all going on a 2-day camping trip.
Thanks for the notice.
The next morning, she yells at me to wake up and pack.
When we get there, she and my stepdad get pissed because I didn't bring a couple things I was apparently supposed to.
Might I remind them that they didn't tell me ANYTHING about what I was supposed to pack? I just had to do it from my head, groggy and half-asleep.
So when we get there, I'm feeling a little sick, but I figure I won't bother anyone with it because everyone else seems to be having a good time.
Then around 10 pm they tell us that there's probably a huge storm coming, and possibly a tornado warning.
By the way, my sister and I get to sleep in a flimsy tent. Good night!
So around 3 am, I wake up to eardrum-shattering thunder, to discover that everything in the tent is soaking wet and the tent walls are caving in from the rain.
I wake up my sister and we run to the smelly public bathroom outside the campsite because we're afraid the walls are going to fall down.
Eventually my sister wakes up my mom, sound asleep in her warm, dry car all to herself.
We do our best to dry off, wrap up in the wet towels and drive home.
My sister and I are huddled in the car; shivering, crying, soaking wet and terrified.
All I want to do is get some rest. I wrap the thin, damp towel closer around me and pick up the pillow that was on the floor, propping it against the window and leaning against it, closing my eyes.
My mom looks at us- shaking, miserable, tears running down our faces.
And she says to me
"Don't get my pillow wet."
So that's the story of the last time I will ever go camping.
