As far as I can tell, my husband managed to survive his first Campbell family vacation.
This was the first vacation that I didn’t share a bed with little sister, Maren. Hooray for marriage!*
Only one terribly, awful, no good thing happened with this year’s weeklong family bonding time: I couldn’t find my camera. Sadly, this means no pictures posted to Facebook where people would post comments and all of the internets could be jealous of our awesome memories.
Instead, the only documented proof from this year that I have is a handful of cell phone pics including one frightening image of Dustin, who apparently is a zombie brother-in-law.
I want you all to know, though, that I found my camera. It’s a funny thing how that camera went missing.
Nathan and I both remembered that it was in my yellow purse and I had it at Kasey and Jim’s wedding festivities the week before our vacation. We checked the yellow purse, not there. At one point, the purse was in the movie theatre with us, in the trunk of the car, and on the floor in front of the front seat of the car. I checked the car, not there. I checked the trunk, not there. Nathan searched the car, twice, not there.
I started to worry that somehow the camera had fallen out of my purse at the movie theatre. I once lost an earring in that same theatre and never saw it again. What are the chances that I could get my camera back if it had fallen into the dark abyss of littered popcorn and spilled sugary sodas under movie theatre seats?
We eventually gave up looking and went on vacation without a camera.
Sunday afternoon, I came home from the vacation and greeted the lonely cat who mewed constantly and followed me everywhere. I didn’t feel like unpacking so I thought, I’ll check Nathan’s car just one more time for the camera.
I opened the trunk and moved the golf clubs around, not in there. I climbed into the backseat and reached my hand under the front seats. No camera (nor did I find crumbs or lost pennies or even old receipts because that car is CLEAN). Okay, fine. One last check in the front seat.
I open the shotgun door, consider kneeling down on the asphalt to look under the seat, but decide instead to reach with my hand first.
I didn’t even have to reach under the seat.
My camera was only barely underneath, just enough to be out of sight.
I swear I checked under that seat before the vacation as well. I told Nathan about it when I talked to him on the phone that night. He couldn’t believe he’d missed it either.
Apparently, we weren’t supposed to have a camera full of memories from this year’s vacation. Why, God? He probably has no idea.
But I’d found the camera. I went inside to look at the pictures on it that I thought were lost and gone forever and remembered we’d taken half a dozen one afternoon spent playing Frisbee golf. Nathan had a scruffy face and longer hair. It would have been a mighty TRAVESTY to have lost those pictures.
*As I typed this, I contemplated making a list of 100 reasons marriage rocks and yes, “no longer sharing a bed with your single sibling on the family vacation” would make the list.