We held the usual insightful conversations:
"Think it will rain?"
"I wonder if I should take the awning down."
"Looks like it's going to hit us."
"Naw. it's going to veer off to the East."
"I think I will take the awning down."
"Look, it's already lighter in the West."
"Please pass the sauteed mushrooms."
At that point, the glob looked over its shoulder, came to a screeching halt on its cartoon heels, and said to itself, "After all my threats, those silly people are eating outside,"
And it hit us.
We grabbed everything we could and raced into Ken and Harriet's camper to finish our meal while the wind and rain tried to chew us up and spit us out. We said "It won't rain this hard for long." and it lasted five hours. We watched as pickup with a trailer circled the campground through the driving rain, presumably deciding on a site but perhaps waiting for one of us to be carried to Oz so he could snatch our lawn chairs and BBQ grill. Since it was too crowded to gather around a table, we played "I went on a camping trip and took along--", you know, where you have to name something that starts with every letter of the alphabet. Not surprisingly, the women skunked the men.
When there appeared to be a small let up, we raced for our own campers, and buttoned in for the night, listened to the storm hit again with renewed fury.
So, I promise, no more nice comments.