There's a little cabin which sits by the entrance besides the pathway that seems to stretch endlessly. After your dad checks you and your family in (not to mention that he knows the receptionist from way back), your dad drives into the path and veers into the clearing, where you see other families who've already set up their territories, some of whom are, sure enough, singing campfire songs. 

Your nightmare is already coming true (the guitar accompaniment sounds quite good, though).

Your dad continues meandering aimlessly through the clearing, going here and there until he thinks he's found a good spot. 

By now, the sun has already set, and the breeze is gentle on you. 

“You think here's good?” he looks to your mum first for approval. “We'd be close to the hall and the toilets, which is just a little up ahead.”

“Here's good.”

He looks at you this time. 

“Yeah, it's good,” all of you exit the car and open the trunk of your hatchback, where all your food and supplies lie. Your mum informs the both of you that she'll start prepping the food, and you watch her walk away. “What's the hall for anyway?” you stretch your arms.

“It's where your mother is going to prep the food.”

“Sounds boring.”

“Not really. You'll probably find some other interesting things in there.”

“I see,” you deadpan.

“Yeah,” he sighs wistfully. “Did I ever tell you that I met your mother on this camping site?” he recalls, taking out the camping equipment. 

You groan. “Please, not this story again.”

“I remember like it was yesterday.”

“Okay so we decided to tell it again, nice,” you mutter.  

“Your mother was going as part of a Biology camp or something, and I was there as a volunteer. And when I met your mother the first time, by God I think I fell in love!”   

“Yeah yeah yeah,” you wave it off noncommittally. “Then you popped her cherry and nine months later I came into the world! That's all nice and rosy, but is there really no Wi-Fi here?” you whip out your phone, and sure enough, there is no reception. 

“Sorry little lady, but I need you to help me pitch the tent. Here, read the instructions aloud for me.”

You look at the long passages of words and sigh. This is going to be a long week.

To be continued...