I am a camper and I have backpacked across land and camped along the way while re-hydrating food and smelling real smells and all that.

I have packed up three little people, a tent and headed to unknown territory and just "figured it out" with tuna fish and a large bag of apples. We’ve jumped into cold water and floated where the current took us.

And all along the way I am thinking, "Why?! Why can't I just be content to read a book on the couch? Why must we go and (fill in the blank with random adventure here)?"

I don't have an answer. I do know that when I was growing up, we didn't do the normal family trips. We headed to islands and camped.

We camped at Disney World. We never went into actual Disney Theme Parks, we just camped there and used all the cool trams and boats and pools. I do know that fun was jumping off of sailboats. Fun was building rope swings and blazing trails in the woods.

Because the truth is, I would rather be “glamping.” I like real sheets and clean feet when I sleep. I like walls between me and the kids so I can't hear them breathing and moving. So, I am really only partially a camper.

But I do it sometimes, all the same. To smell the real smells and all that.