OMG! This camping caper is driving me OTT

MOBILISING troop battalions of starships in a co-ordinated operation involving the invasion of a distant planet in the far reaches of another galaxy would be a doddle to anyone who has organised a family camping holiday. Oh. My. God.

You become Napoleonic in your strategising, OCD in your attention to detail, and like a melting rubber band in your flexibility. You lie awake, make lists of your lists, and ignore memories of when going away used to mean turning up at the airport straight from the party the night before, carrying little more than your passport and a lipstick.

Not anymore. Not when camping, families and driving is involved. Especially if your trip is long and your collective wallets shrivelled (the only one with any cash is the 11-year-old: stuffed with tenners from a recent birthday and lording it up like an oligarch).