So my family and I went camping for almost two weeks, over at the beach. During most of this time, my husband was working out of town, leaving only me, our five boys, and two of the kids' friends to camp without him. (This is a vacation???)
Later on, husband rejoined us along with two other families we know, who were with us on the 4th of July as we watched the most awesome fireworks spectacle in the nation.
I shared a tent with our two youngest boys (ages 6 and 7), while the older boys slept in a tent of their own.
There was all kinds of weather, from nasty high winds and cold icky rain to pleasantly warm sunshine. Often the nasty cold yucky weather and the warm nice weather happened on the same day -- sometimes just an hour or so apart. So in the course of a day, it would be prudent to change clothes many times over -- or at least peel off a layer or two as the day warmed up.
I had to re-pitch one of the tents because of the aforementioned wind and rain, and chase down and re-set a large tarp which had been protecting one of our less-waterproof tents. This of course involved bending, lifting, carrying, reaching, and cussing.
I had to squat down to start (or supervise the starting of) the campfire every morning and night, plus duck to get in and out of the tents. And reach up high to hang the wet clothes, reach high to light the lantern, and crawl around on my knees looking for the dropped flashlight.
We spent much of the time going back and forth to the beach, involving wet, sandy changes of clothes.
On our trips on and off the beach, I often had to carry a beach bag, a handful of sopping wet clothes, a chair or two, somebody's shoes, and once (along with all the above) a small child who had cut his foot that wouldn't stop bleeding.
So!? Well, here's the thing, people. I wore my Glock 26 successfully for the entire trip, and at no time did any of my children, their guests or our friends who came later suspect I was carrying it.
I feel pretty good about that.