Definition of Persistence

So we went camping a couple weeks ago. It was the first time our family of four has been camping in a long time. Like since before our separation. It was good. We just went somewhere nearby to test it out. You know: do we still know how to assemble our tent, can I still handle sleeping on the ground, will I be too cold, blah, blah, blah. We got a beautiful spot on the East side of Folsom lake with hardly anyone in the campground. So, good. Set up camp, had smores, went to bed late, slept under the stars... all good.

So in the middle of the night, through a sleepy fog, I hear my husband talking to someone. Now, if I haven't accurately portrayed him before, he's generally not the most relaxed and friendly guy. I mean, he can be, and when he is, he really is, but I think he would generally be described as a moody grump. But, I here him and he sounds like he's on an episode of Sesame Street or stoned. Neither of which were true. He's saying, "Oh stop it, no don't do that, you silly thing... Are we going to have to do this all night? Really? No, not that! Ok, seriously [then laughter]." I'm thinking: who's he talking to, wait, what do I care, he's happy! So then he stumbles back into the tent, in only his underwear mind you, sees that I'm awake, and says, "Raccoons". Ok. Cool. Raccoons in the campground. He says they were trying to get into the bear box (yes, we locked up all our food), but they couldn't and he's scared them away.

So, not two minutes later, we hear the unmistakable sound of a wooden cabinet door being jostled back and forth. Guess the raccoons haven't given up. At this point, our daughter awakes, so we both say, "Come on, want to see raccoons?" So the three of us get up and go check it out. Sure enough, two raccoons: one in the bushes and one on the cabinet. As we come out, they scamper away and we take the opportunity for a bathroom break after admiring how adorable they are. Back to the tent.

Quiet for two more minutes, then this time, the rattle, rattle, rattle of a wooden cabinet door, followed by the crinkle, crinkle, crinkle of a bag of food being ferociously grabbed. Seriously! Ok, so this time the three of us go out and now there is a raccoon literally wrapped around the corner of the cabinet like a starfish on a juicy clam. He was actually a rectangular shape. His arm was wedged deep down into the cabinet through a crack in the door and he was goin' for those what turned out to be graham crackers like it was the depression. Even after being poked (gently prodded) with a marshmallow stick over and over again, he wouldn't move. Ever see Aliens? It was like those face sucking egg laying aliens. That thing was not coming off. We used this opportunity to tell our daughter that THAT is what persistence is.

So anyway, we cut the ziptie on the cabinet, drag the food into the tent, (I know, bears, but there weren't suppose to be any and my husband was determined raccoons wouldn't tear through the tent), and try to go back to sleep. After hearing the raccoons stalk us for about ten minutes and having to drag my comatose son's legs up onto the cot to get them away from the edge of the tent and the ravenous and quite definitively persistent raccoons, we sleep.

And in the morning, what I took away from the whole thing was: my daughter got to see cool wildlife and my husband was able to remain cheery through what could have been deemed an annoying situation. It was a good night.