One of the things I like about camping . . . besides doing not much of anything, relaxing
by a raging fire and drinking beer (or whatever) at the crack of dawn without
anyone giving me grief . . . is bedtime.
We . . . hubby and I . . . have a big giant double wide
sleeping bad laid over a queen size air mattress. It’s a very warm sleeping bag made even
warmer by hubby’s hot body.
So, I love when it’s time to hit the sack and getting all
snuggly and cozy in the sleeping bag, reading in the dark, listening to the
crackling embers of the dying fire and the whispers of quiet conversations from
the surrounding campsites . . . assuming said neighbors aren’t’ being loud and
obnoxious.
Quiet time at our campground is from 10 PM to 7 Am . . . a
reasonable mandate.
So, on night hubby and I were all cozy and comfy. Me quietly snoozing . . . or loudly for all I
know because hubby claims I snore . . . and him reading.
Unbeknownst to me, on this particular night, there was a bit
of drama and I missed the whole thing.
Around midnight . . . well past designated quiet time . . .
some happy (and likely intoxicated) camper decided it was a good time to rock
some tunes . . . loudly.
Hubby, not inclined to take crap from anyone . . .
especially when he’s all cozy warm in his big honkin’ sleeping bag next to his
beautiful and talented wife during the anniversary of their honeymoon camping
trip . . . had had enough of these raucous rock-n-rollers.
Me? Comfortable and
clueless.
So, he climbed out of the warmth of his bed into the chill October
night air. He grabbed his 120 lumen
flashlight and slipped into the music filled darkness.
The camp manager’s campsite happened to be right across from
us so he shined that super bright flashlight into the windows of their camper
hoping to gain the attention of their yippity, yappity, howly beagles who in
turn would wake up their owners who would then hear the music and shut them the
hell up.
Well, that plan failed . . . like me, beagles apparently are
sound sleepers.
With what I can imagine was a bit of a grumpy attitude,
hubby headed off into the darkness to track down the source of the disrupted
quietude.
Once located, he shined his very bright flashlight right into
the eyes of the perpetrator and announced in a firm authoritative tone . . .
“You! Your music can
be heard all over the campground.
“Quiet time is at 10:00 o’clock.
“Kill it or leave.”
In a subdued and submissive tone the rock-n-roller replied, “I’m
sorry, sir. I didn’t know anyone else
could hear it.”
Hubby flicked off his light and slipped into the cover of
darkness.
Quiet again fell over the sleepy smoke hazed campground.
Hubby returned to bed.
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