This is the headline on my newspaper this morning as I bent to pick it up. I thought, really? Does that person exist? The one who wants to camp and have an elegant frittata to COOK in the morning? I mean, sure the person who wants a frittata, no problem, but the one who is willing to cook one and camp? I'd love to meet them. No, actually I wouldn't. Because I'd rather be at the nearby restaurant on a lovely outdoor deck overlooking nature, not being one with it.
A frittata sounds like something I'd want a Diet Coke with -- don't ask me why, just would. Somehow I'd need that in a glass with ice and who wants an elegant frittata on a paper plate? Or are you going to run it under those camp faucets and clean a real dish?
They wonder why the newspaper is dying? Maybe because your demographic for frittata-loving campers is smaller than you think. Just sayin. I'm happy to note that I stepped over my frittata-graced newspaper on my way to Starbucks and I bought myself a coffee cake. Life is good. My family is camping without me. They're good with that too, as Elle told me I ruined the last trip. You know what, baby? Take mommy to a hotel and see who ruins the vacation. It would be daddy saying you can't order a hot chocolate. Let me show you a picture of Elle when I took her to see Glee, and you tell me who knows how to vacation.
And to my mother, who thinks that RVing is such a luxurious way to camp (and lent my family her rig) -- no Mom, it's not. I spend every day wrapped in a van with kids fighting over the radio, so hey, what could make that any better? Oh hey, put a kitchen in that van and bring the dog, now you're on VACATION. Not.
I have to admit. I'm a little jealous at the moment. Just got these photos.