We went camping at Five Islands this weekend with Papa and three other families. I cannot sing the praises of camping with other families enough. A happy camping trip consists of my family, a beautiful location, and little, practically saintly, children who play sweetly with my toddler and who literally hold him back from the cliffs he wants to jump off and the fires he wants to poke with sticks.
A happy camping trip does not require me to remember to bring bug spray, flashlights, or a dish pan, all of which we needed but I forgot to bring in my last minute packing rush.
The Bairn loves camping. He loves the running around. He loves the sleeping in a tent. He loves the marshmallows. This year one of the little girls in another family made him all the roasted marshmallows he could eat. I even found him munching away at one over breakfast.
The Bairn couldn't actually remember his friend's name. He called her 'the girl' and asked about her as soon as he woke up in the morning and later, while sitting at a table with her, called out to me, "I'm sitting with The Girl!" in such a happy voice.
Ellen is also good at camping. Her favorite activities are trying to crawl into the fire and eating sticks. Everyone loves her and sometimes this is a hardship for her.