Last night was our first "camp-in" since living in this house. In years past, in houses past - Kevin and Joe have set up our tent in the back yard, or even in the living room (in two of our houses, we've had large rooms unfurnished) - snacked on a box of Cheez-Its and spent the night.
Now that our tent has had actual outdoor camping use, it's too dirty to set up in my family room - so we just shifted some furniture and rolled out five sleeping bags (John was none the wiser in his crib). This is more honestly reminiscent of camping with my dad when I was growing up - "sleeping under the stars" he called it. My ten year-old self called it "terrifyingly vulnerable to bugs and axe-murderers camping with Dad".
Our tile floor is HARD. Our neighbors porch light is BRIGHT. My fear of scorpion sting is INTENSE. The sugar and junk we all consumed before sleep was PLENTIFUL. For all those reasons, I slept horribly, but am still glad we did it. As soon as we woke up (at 5:30, thank you) Kevin started listing off the things we'll do different next time. None of his suggestions included hauling our sleep number bed downstairs. Oh, well.