So, last Friday I went camping with the boys. In a tent. In a wooded area. In 40 something degree weather. In a tent.
We had the car packed and ready to roll, but alas! the battery? She be drained. I got out of the car and walked to the back (why? I don't really know.) and there was a fluid pouring out from under the car! I reached under, dipped my fingers in, and took a whiff. It didn't smell like anything. I called Matt over and we sprawled out on the garage floor. The fluid was coming down from above the spare tire. WTF? I stood up and opened the lift. The carpet in the back of the car was wet. Heh? I didn't even put ice in the cooler so I figured it wasn't that leaking. Then Matt said, "My Camelbak!" Something had come unplugged in his pseudo-Camelbak and had leaked a lot of water out. Luckily it didn't get any of the camping stuff wet, but still, why won't the car start?
We pushed it out of the garage and since my cables were in the storage area under the camping stuff, we jumped it with his sad, sad little jumper cables that had seen way better days. (When we got back from camp, I chunked 'em. He now owns brand new ones.)
Ahhh. Camping. In a tent. It was cold. Chris and I had -5 degree bags, but my feet were still cold. I took a throw and stuffed it down around my feet and that made a world of difference. It took forever for my nose to warm up. (First thing I saw when I woke up the next morning? Four packs of Hot Hands that I had taken out of the car and put beside me JUST IN CASE MY FEET GOT COLD. Totally forgot about them. Cussed myself all day Saturday.)
Between the cold, the leaves and acorns dropping on the tent, the snoring in the tent next to us, the racoons, the coyotes, and Chris sitting up in bed, jabbing his fist into the air and yelling, "Tough Guys!" in his sleep, I didn't sleep that much. Go figure.
But I made it. And I just may go again. But only with one of these. And some earplugs.