Camping = Laundromat = Lost Stroller

We now interrupt the re-telling of our anniversary vacation for this brief tidbit that may not interest anyone but me.

Each and every time we go camping, I end up at a laundromat. Either during the trip, or after. This time, it was after.

I had to launder our sleeping bags to rid them of pretzel crumbs (who let Connor have the pretzels?) and wood chips (it was raining, so we stored the wood for our fires in our cabin - how little bits ended up in the sleeping bags, I don't know).

Kevin and I each have a king size sleeping bag of heavy weight, and I can't fit them into my washer and dryer. Even one at a time.

So I took them to a laundromat. Connor was helping me to check to make sure that I didn't leave anything in a washing machine when he slammed the door shut on my head. I still have a lump, and it's been more than 24 hours. Such a helpful little boy.

This is important because it directly relates to my leaving my favorite stroller behind in the mall parking lot following the laundromat trip yesterday. I was concussed. Clearly. At least the diaper bag and both boys made it home safely.

Fortunately, the mall security found my stroller and kept it for me, and we were able to retrieve it this evening when I discovered that it was no longer in the back of my SUV, which is where I normally keep it.