But all mammals are not camels.
Unless you're a human mother of two more humans, hoofing it back and forth to work, school, bakeries, parks, tennis lessons, music class... then you might be a camel too.
All that crap that I used to fill up the back of my hatchback with... I still need it, it still comes with us, it's just all piled on my back.
I try to hone it down. I have my backpack so I can try to stuff small parcels away. I empty it regularly. But I somehow manage to always end up feeling like a pack animal.
On my arms, shoulders, and back today, when I finally collapsed through the doorway:
1. My backpack, containing a change of shoes from work, wallet, cell phone, mittens, 3 mandarin oranges from lunch, a water bottle, a tennis racket and change of shoes for the punk.
2. Punk's school backpack containing, I think, about 10 or 12 bricks...
3. Shopping bag with sweets for movie night... a pandoro cake, chocolates and gummies, and roasted chestnuts for mom.
4. Two wet umbrellas
excuse me sir... can I borrow your burrow?
Sorry punks... I really do try to refrain from ripping your cute little heads off when you ask me if I can carry your mittens, a stick, or a piece of trash... But could you just take a look at me? Do I have a third arm I don't know about?
Don't worry. I didn't decapitate any punks. My patience flows from an eternal spring. And, despite the fact that I'm eating all this great Italian food, I'm still losing weight.