Reagan and McKinley have both been very excited about our move to Italy for several weeks.

McKinleys excitement stems from the thought of new adventure and she is always up for an adventure.

Reagan's excitement is all about the hotels. PCS time means staying in hotels and the girl loves hotels.

Tuesday night Reagan could hardly contain herself as we drove to Quantico to check in to billeting (the hotel).

Now, I will readily admit that because we are an Air Force family we are spoiled when it comes to on base lodging facilities. It also doesn't help that the last lodging facility we stayed in was a Distinguished Visitor/VIP suite at Little Rock AFB - thanks to husband's former boss whose retirement we were attending.

I explained to the girls that the room would not be anything like what we last stayed in. I didn't want them to come to expect that kind of treatment. And, honestly, I think I was reminding myself that we were back in the real world and not worthy of such fabulous digs.

They could not have cared less.

We (the little presidents, my mom and I (husband was at Spamalot)) went up to see the room before heading back to the sea of boxes my house had become.

We were immediately greeted with a mildewy smell when we opened the door. I thought "no problem, I have a nearly full bottle of Febreeze the movers won't pack."

Less than five minutes in the room presented a problem.

Taylor started coughing.

We headed down to the front desk to explain the situation - mildew and mold + preemie with history of compromised lung function and asthma = bad news.

They had one other family suite available but told me that it probably smelled the same. Huh? If this building is 10 years old I would be very surprised. They were gracious enough to let us go inspect the other room.

That one smelled worse.

We had no choice but to head back to our house - which had now become "box central."

Fortunately, the beds were still there and the movers had not packed the bed linens my mom had just finished drying and folding.

Unfortunately, Reagan was devastated.

We made arrangements to borrow air mattresses and other necessary items from our friends and neighbors.

While driving all over Northern Virginia to pick up the items, Reagan pointed out every hotel we passed.

"Look! We could stay there" was shouted at the sight of everything from a Wingate to the long-since-closed, dilapidated Stafford Motel.

In a moment of pure genius, I reminded her of her desire to go camping. I saw the twinkle in her eye and knew I was on to something.

I told her that the air mattresses we were getting were the same ones that are used for camping. And, that we would be eating off paper plates - and that it would be fun food like hot dogs.

And, best of all is we would be in the house and there would be no bugs.

Sold!

So, here we sit. Camping in the house, without the bugs and with air conditioning. This is what camping should be.