Wee-wee in the tipi
Let me start by saying that it was my wife's idea: we're going camping with the children. I know that many families like to do this, and often do. But the thought of it made me break out in a cold sweat. The last time I put up a tent was at the Roskilde Festival in 1997. It took four hours and in the end it looked like we had thrown a tarpaulin over a wheelbarrow. The lines had already given way that evening and the rain came that night.
On a website, I discovered that you can also rent teepee tents that have already been erected in a beautiful location. «Haven't you always wanted to sleep in a real tipi tent?» I tried to sell the idea to my family.
It's amazing how common adversity connects. His stress calmed me down.
In the middle of the forest in a small clearing, five tipis had been erected around a campfire. Nearby, I saw a number of other fathers erecting tents that looked like tents. I mumbled a short prayer of thanks and put our sleeping bags in the tipi. I walked over to one of the other fathers who was working with a throw tent. One of them was dripping with sweat. «What are you doing?» I asked like an idiot. «What does that look like? I'm trying to put up this damn tent.»
«What's the problem?» I asked, as if I had momentarily forgotten that, whatever the problem, I wouldn't be able to help him. «I don't know exactly,» the man replied resignedly.
I immediately felt close to him. It's amazing how common adversity connects. His stress calmed me down. Maybe my children and I wouldn't survive this weekend. But we wouldn't be the only ones to die.
The day was good: playing in the forest, swimming in the lake, sitting exhausted around the campfire. The night wasn't so good:
00:30 My daughter rattles my head because she's cold. I put my jacket over her sleeping bag.
01:12 «Dad!» - My daughter sits bolt upright on her sleeping mat. «I need a wee."
02:07 "It's raining.» This time it's my wife who has woken up. «Yeah, it's nice,» I mumble. «It's raining,» she says emphatically.
02:10 I stand in the rain in my boxer shorts and T-shirt and try to adjust the smoke flaps so that the top of the tipi is completely closed.
02:15 I think about getting in the car and driving home.
02:20 My wife helps me close the smoke flaps.
03:30 «Dad,» my daughter says directly into my ear, «I heard a dog.»
04:30 This time it's me who has woken up for no reason.
05:00 The birds start chirping outside at an unimaginable volume.
Shortly afterwards, we are sitting around the campfire again, someone is making coffee and the mood is surprisingly good. The night had been a reflection of what it means to have children: tough, but you survive. The father from the broken tent sat down next to me: «I've heard there's another tipi village up in the Jura.»
«Oh yeah?» I heard myself say.
