As you slowly open your eyes, you can see sunlight overhead. In the distance, you can hear water trickling and smell coffee brewing. You've barely raised your head off your pillow when you hear the sounds of something akin to a National Geographic special on animal packs- growling, hissing, screeches of pain...
One might think they were camping somewhere off in the wilderness. Not you. You know that you're home, and those sounds you hear aren't TECHNICALLY animals- they're your children trying desperately to thin the herd.
Unfortunately for me, I cannot afford ignorance. I know all too well that I'm not camping, although the question of whether or not the sounds are coming from wild animals is debatable. I've read in books about small children who awaken their sleeping parents with cereal, convinced they're helping guard their parents' hearts against the evils of cholesterol-
-or was that a Cheerios commercial?-
-either way, I've heard the tales of small children who behave in a way that makes their parents go,"Awwww....", but so far I've only experienced small children that make ME go,"Ahhhhhhh!!!!" Small children (with not-so-smallish intentions to maim and destroy) who awaken me with the gentle blood curdling screams that only a mother could ignore. Sounds of crashing and evil laughter gently rouse me from my peaceful dreams, while every nerve in my body screams at me to run as if a hungry bear were on my tail. But, much like you wouldn't be able to outrun the bear, I can't escape my job as mom- or, as I lovingly refer to myself, zookeeper.
Suuuuure, camping is great if you want fresh air and scenic views, but if you want to save a few bucks, let me know. I have a big living room where you can pitch a tent and wait for the howling to start.