"Jill, that was our CREAM SODA!"

That is what I heard in the middle of the night from my friend Becky, after hearing the raccoon scramble through our campsite.

Here's how it went down:

Becky and her husband Tim went camping with us in Door County over Father's Day weekend. (FUN!)

Their pop-up was parked next to our tent.

Earlier in the evening, I spied Jones' Cream Soda at the store, and Becky grabbed a 6-pack and we couldn't wait to stick it in the cooler! (YUM.)

We stayed up late. James heard rustling in the trees so he shined the flashlight zing! to his far left! in a flash!  and there he was....a stinking raccoon...just 2 or 3 feet from us...waiting for a snack! So we put all the food away in the truck, put the coolers under the pop-up...and my last thought of the night was..."I wonder if the raccoon can open up the cooler?  Will he grab our hamburgers?"

At about 1:00 AM we hear more rustling, louder than before. At first I think it's one of the kids getting up, but no...  then I hear laughing from the pop-up, and we start laughing, and James gets up, (unzip the sleeping bag, unzip the tent, zip the tent..) and shoos the 'coon away again!

Back in the tent, unzip the door, zip the door, zip the sleeping bag...whew! Finally, some peace.

But now this bugger comes back a third time, and this time with a vengeance! A few thumps, clunks, dragging....and I know for sure now that a raccoon can open a cooler....and then the giggling again, and then Becky half-whispers, half-yells, "Jill! that was our CREAM SODA!"