When I was in the fourth grade, I went on a camping trip with the group I was in- the American Heritage Girls. I remember being so excited that I couldn't sleep the night before.
The next morning, I loaded to car, kissed my mother goodbye, and hopped into the car where my dad was waiting. It would be the first and last camping trip with my dad.
Arriving at the campsite, I couldn't have been happier. But my excitement quickly faded. We'd come late- it was already night time. I had no time to play with my friends, and we had yet to put up our tent. At my dad's commandeering nature, my annoyance and displeasure steadily grew. I went to sleep that night disappointed at a bad start to the trip,
The next day, I was determined not to be distracted by Dad- trying to curb my attitude. My dad was already up and had made breakfast, so it made it easier to be positive. How can you be mad at someone that offers you bacon?
In the afternoon, my group headed into the woods for a hike. My dad joined us as we spotted various wildlife and gathered walking sticks. Something happened, and I remember lashing out at him yet again. Things were tense between us once more.
Suddenly, there was a call from Mom. Dad's face grew more and more blank as the call went on. Dread bubbled in my stomach- What happened? Was Mom alright?