“Maybe,” Hunter said when I asked if he’d like to go camping. It had the sound of almost-definitely-not.
“Are you coming, Hunter?” Brenna asked a short time later, reluctantly since she was hoping for a strictly daddy-daughter trip.
“No, you go ahead, bub,” Hunter answered with a bit too much enthusiasm. It would be Hunter’s first night home alone and I could just imagine a night-long marathon of candy and games.
After thirty-seven miles of the usual “how much farther” and “are we there yet,” Brenna and I pull into Willow Creek Campground and select one of two sites by the river here at the head of Arrowrock Reservoir.