After camping this weekend, Bill and the boys set up the tent in the backyard to dry out. In the evening, Bill was putting it away, and I went to help him with the rain fly, which is not rectangular. He started to object to my pattern of folding.
“I usually fold the sides in to make it a rectangle,” he explained.
“It is a rectangle,” I insisted, gesturing to my not-very-rectangly shape. “You just have to think outside the box.”
“I was thinking outside the box,” he said. “But my box is different than your box.”
Somehow, we make this marriage work.
The difference in the army guy, versus the army spouse!! I don't even try to fold the tent, so you are a better wife than me!! Actually, I should ammend that statement to read that I am not “allowed” to fold the tent. However, our older boys have been “properly” “schooled” in the “appropriate” way to fold things. I am, however, now allowed to fold/roll sleeping bags, but only after I have been properly instructed in the methodology for rolling them tight enough to fit back in the bag.
Oh, my. Like father like son – they are both Reitemeyers!