Would You Rather

Alex and I love camping. Or at least we think we do.

We have a little dance that we do every time we decide we want to sleep under the stars. We get a late start on the day. Pack the car with enough to support a family of four, except we usually omit some key amenities, like ice for the cooler, pillows, or marshmallows to roast. We usually pull in to the camp site when the sun is setting, and I'm starving. We argue indecisively over the best site - 24 backs up to the hill and has a nice shady tree, but 26 is a bit further from the streetlight and bathroom. We usually settle on a different spot entirely, and then Alex proceeds to set-up camp while I complain about being hungry. Eventually, we cook some hot dogs, and long for baked beans or chips or some sort of unhealthy-but-tasty side dish. And then we stare at the fire for a little bit. This is when Alex starts in on his 2nd or 3rd beer, and he's feeling relaxed and settled in for the evening. I, on the other hand, start to get bored at about this time. But it's usually still too early to go to bed. So in order to entertain myself I invite Alex to play a game of Would You Rather? He hates this game, but usually humors me, at least at first.

"If there was a fire, would you rather save your brother, or your best friend?" I ask.

He tells me I'm morbid and refuses to answer.

"Fine, fine. Would you rather have sex with your brother or your best friend?"

"God, Jo," he whines. "You only want to play this so you can tell people later that I said I want to sleep with my best friend."

"So you would rather have sex with AJ? Is that your final answer?" I clarify.

"Ugh, yes, I would rather have sex with my best friend than my my brother, because then at least I'm not committing incest. Okay, fine, you want to play? Let me give you one. Would you rather lick you dad or your brother's butthole?"

"Easy. My brother. He's younger and doesn't have diverticulitis," I respond, promptly, confident with my answer.

This goes on for a bit, until I grow tired of this game, too. Fortunately, this means it's time to make some s'mores before crawling into my sleeping bag and calling it a night.

Here are a few photos from our recent trip for a few nights in Pacific City on the Oregon Coast.

At our campsite, the one we eventually agreed upon, simply because I was hungry and needed hot dogs to tide me over until s'more time.

Haystack Rock, the southern-most of the two by the same name, in Pacific City.

Skipping rocks at sunset.

With my little trooper, who loved running in the sand and was a good little camper.