Literally.
Since camping always means roasting marshmallows and hot dogs, we couldn't leave them out on our "faux-campout", either. But this process turned out to be one of the most hysterical of the night as our campers attempted to get their yummies done just right.
On a stick.
Over flames.
They started with the basics
But, when, you're a golden-browned, slightly this side of squishy kind of marshmallow guy this
Judsen felt it strongly necessary to bun his own hot dog since we so cruelly disallowed him the opportunity to place himself anywhere near the open flames of a burning pit. (Horribly mean of us, I know).
And when he got it just right....
The look was pure glee.
He ate two.
Yes.
Two.
By the time the meal was over, tummies were rounder and grins bigger...
... just in time for sunset and a few rounds of Red Light, Green Light (which somehow became much funnier when Mommy played, too).
It was a day of processes that afforded golden opportunities to study and observe our children simply by dwelling with them in the moments that make memories.
It wasn't without work on our parts, sure. But what's a little sweat if you're carving out the tablets on which their their tales of home are written?
Someday, we hope they remember these tales and great love and devotion floods their very hearts. We pray they recall our devotion as it was and will always be: true and steady and standing the test of time.
Me thinks that would make a great story.
And, after all...
home is where your story begins.
"But what's a little sweat if you're carving out the tablets on which their their tales of home are written?"
ReplyDeletethis one line made me cry.