Camping

Sister and I went camping last weekend. 

Okay, we went glamping. 

Fine, we slept on the floor in the living room for two nights. 

Camping during TS Ida

No matter what you call it, I love it.  Throughout the years, I’ve had many camping excursions.  When I’m not feeling well, Ma usually sits up with me in the living room.  When Sister isn’t feeling well, she’s been known to relocate to her chair to spend the night.  And when there’s a scary wind storm going through the area, Sister’s always quick to head to lower ground (and away from the giant oak that used to live right outside her window). 

So why did we camp out this weekend?  Well, Sister and I were home alone together and rather than drag me upstairs to her bedroom and devise a way of keeping me on the second floor when I normally sleep on the first, Sister thought it would be a heck of a lot easier and fun if we just camped out on the living room floor.  She was right on all counts. 

On the first night of our camping trip, I settled down next to Sister and I fell asleep while she scratched my side.  I woke up only once that night when Sister poked me because I was dreaming and kicking her in my sleep.  On the second night, however, I decided that I wanted upgrade my sleeping accommodations.  So, as soon as Sister made up her bed on the floor, I...well...took over. 

A Bedtime Upgrade

Needless to say, Sister was less than pleased with my decision to upgrade my bed, but what was she going to do?  I had, upon settling down, immediately gone into my floppy dead weight mode—a state in which I cannot be physically moved.  So Sister spent the first part of the night in her chair and only regained her bed after I, feeling a little overheated, moved on to the cold wood floor to sleep.  I’ve never seen Sister move so quickly in my life.