Winston Aldworth: Dictatorship of the campground

A little bit of orderliness will make relaxation more possible. Especially when your camping involves kids and the mayhem they bring. Photo / iStock

Hats - in case you ever visit my campground - go in the hat box.

And shoes - you'll find - belong in the shoe box.

If you find a hat, put it in the hat box; and if you're looking for your hat, don't ask me - go look in the hat box.

We are here to relax. Put your feet up, chill out, don't stress. But - even though it might sound somewhat counter-intuitive - a little bit of orderliness will make the relaxation more possible. Especially when your camping involves kids and the mayhem they bring.

Few things in life shatter my relaxation more than a kid asking me where their shoes are - inevitably you find one shoe easily; the other after an hour-long hunt. And few things in life elevate my stress levels like trying to find a hat for a kid when the sun is blazing. (A couple of weeks back, I had to remove a bee sting from the shoeless foot of a redheaded, hatless kid on a blazingly hot day. As the parent on duty at the time, it was my fault he was shoeless and hatless.)

Likewise, few things in life will boost my smile quite like knowing that someone is scheduled to mix a round of cocktails once the aforementioned kids are all in bed.

So a little orderliness - knowing there's a time the kids will go to bed, knowing there's some food ready to go for their next meal and my own - makes the relaxation more relaxing.

When I am camp commandant, the trains run on time.