It's not raining. Daddy's not working. And the kids talked him into buying a bag of oversized marshmallows. Sounds like everything we could need for a backyard campfire.
It was our first campfire of the season, which meant a bit of searching was required to find the marshmallow roasting sticks. AJ tried finding some downed tree branches near the river, but all were ridiculously large. Eventually I found the metal sticks, "hidden" in plain sight on a shelf in the garage in pretty much the exact spot where I'd told certain family members to look for them.
Once we put them to use, Sydney happily proclaimed, "This is what I call camping!"
I must say the big marshmallows sound cool in concept, but what a mess! They take forever to cook, and then ooze stickiness on chins, cheeks and fingers. And really, the marshmallows aren't the key ingredient. It's the chocolate the kids really want to eat.
An indication that the kids are getting older: the mosquitos came out before the kids' attention spans ran out.
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