Are We There Yet?

I adore my husband…And he me. But there is one disagreement that separates us one week every year. Yes. After 23 years of marriage…it still separates us…But not in a bad separation way, but rather a “have fun, hurry home!” kind of way. We hug and kiss, laugh and miss each other during this week. In preparation for my week away he locates odds and ends for me, gets excited with the kids and even packs the trailer…so that I can take the kids CAMPING…without him. He says good-bye to his Beverly Hill Billy looking family including a wife pulling a U-Haul packed to the brim with everything but the kitchen sink.
You see, I married Mr. Marriott Man. And truthfully, I’m quite thankful my man prefers crisp clean sheets, hotel coffee, and luxury everything a la carte. I enjoy those comforts, too! But as a mother of many… the great outdoors calls LOUDLY to let the kids eat dirt for one week each year.
Press for Photo Credit 
In the earlier days when we were ironing out the kinks of our marriage like: to camp or not to camp, my husband decided to give it a try with us. We rented a camper and the sewage backed up into the bathtub causing our camper to smell like a giant port-a-potty. That didn’t settle too well with Mr. Marriot, so needless to say, he helps us pack and kisses us good bye for one week each year.

Right or wrong…unconventional or not…this makes us both happy! So I hook up with a girlfriend and her kids who also like to roll in the dirt for one week a year… She kisses her husband, Mr. Hyatt, goodbye and sets out for the great outdoors to meet us in East Texas.
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