So there I was, day off, planted in my favorite chair like a king on his recliner throne, with Odie curled up beside me making those soft little snores that sound like a tiny chainsaw running out of gas. I’m scrolling through camping videos on YouTube, watching people back into sites on the first try like professionals who have never once needed a redo.
And then it hits me.
“Today,” I whisper to Odie, “we surprise Mom.”
He opens one eye. Just one. The look says, I will observe. I will not testify.
After almost 33 years of marriage, Dawn has me well trained. So when I said, “Let’s surprise her,” Odie gave me that expression that clearly translated to: I’ll tag along because it gets me out of the house. Also, no matter what happens, I am not the one sleeping on the couch tonight.
Little did he know, if this plan worked, I wasn’t going to be on the couch anyway.
The sun was peeking between clouds as I walked out back to where the camper has been hibernating since mid-October. It looked peaceful. Rested. Like it had no idea what was about to happen.
I glance at Odie. Now he’s interested.
Out comes the ladder. I climb up and start wrestling the cover off. Thirty minutes later, I finally get it down and think, Well, the hard part is over.
That was adorable.
Folding that cover was like trying to wrestle a parachute in a wind tunnel. There was just enough breeze to make it puff up like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man from Ghostbusters. Every time I thought I had it folded, it ballooned back to life. I haven’t fought something that stubborn since trying to fold a road map in 1993.
Eventually, by sheer willpower and mild frustration, I got it stuffed back into the bag it came in. Victory. Slightly sweaty victory, but still.
Next mission: battery retrieval. I lugged it from its cozy winter resting spot back into the camper, flipped the cutoff switch, hit the button, and up she went just enough to hook up. There is something deeply satisfying about the sound of a fifth wheel king pin sliding into the hitch. It’s like a mechanical handshake. Firm. Confident. We are in this together.
I pulled it up into its prime parking spot next to the house so we could get power to it. Slides came out without complaint. Odie immediately jumped inside and looked around like a tiny inspector general.
He looked back at me as if to say, All right… maybe this time you won’t be in trouble.
Quick inspection underneath. No mouse evidence. No chewed wires. Chalk one up for the good guys.
At 4:15, Dawn pulled in.
I tried to act casual. You know, the whole “Oh this old thing? Just happened to move itself.” routine.
And I am thrilled to report… she was a very happy camper about having the camper back where she can step inside anytime she wants and start dreaming about that third week of March.
Spring fever is officially in the air. The camper is awake. The dog approves. The husband survives.
Stay tuned. If uncovering it was this much of an adventure, dewinterizing might require snacks, tools, and possibly adult supervision. 🏕️🐾
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