"Okay!" announced Aunt Jody. "Time for Smores!"
"Yeah!" shouted my girls as they scrambled to the table to get their marshmallows.
Jody handed a marshmallow to each one, instructing them to slide it onto their sticks. "Oh that's mushy," said Kendall.
"It's gonna be good," said Aunt Jody. "Now, hold your marshmallow over the flames."
"Watch careful now," warned Grandpa. "You don't want it to burn. You just want to get it a nice golden brown." Just then, whoosh! Grandpa's mallow burst into one big flame.
The girls all giggled as Grandpa scrambled to blow out his flaming mallow torch. "That's what you don't want to do huh Annalise," he said. "Granddad needs to listen to his own advice doesn't he?" His grin consumed his entire face as we all laughed at his mishap.
Annalise giggled back, "Yeah!"
Once the marshmallows turned a golden brown, the girls stood by the table as Aunt Jody showed them how to sandwich their mallow between two graham crackers and a slab of Hershey's chocolate. "Hold it together so the chocolate melts," she said. "Mmm. Just like that Kendall. Good job!"
The girls held their Smores tightly until chocolate oozed out the sides. "Can we eat 'em now Aunt Jody?" asked Kendall.
"Chomp away!" exclaimed Jody. They all took big bites of their ooey, gooey, delicious, Smores.
"Ooh, that's good!" exclaimed Annalise. "Do you like that Jolie?"
"Yeah, it's yummy!" said Jolie. "I want another one."
"Me too" said Kendall. "Can I make another one?"
"Sure, bring your stick here," said Aunt Jody.
The girls' happy faces glowed in the firelight as they watched their marshmallows bubble over the flame's heat. "I'm glad we came camping," said Kendall. "This is fun!"
"Yeah, and yummy too," said Annalise.
The girls ate until their tummies could hold no more. "Mommy, my hands are all sticky," said Kendall.
"Okay. We'll walk to the bathroom and clean up," I said. "But let's stop by and get our toothbrushes first. We'll take care of our getting-ready-for-bed stuff while we're over there."
The girls followed me to the tent. "Watch your step now," I warned. "It's dark out here." Just then I heard a thud behind me. I turned to see Kendall pushing herself up by her elbows, trying to keep her sticky hands out of the dirt.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"Yeah," she grunted. "I tripped on the tent thing." She pointed to the rope strung from the peg in the ground to the side of the tent.
I grabbed our toiletries bag and a wash cloth. As I exited the tent Kendall hollered, "Uuugh! Mama! Huwwy." I looked up and saw her tongue hanging out and both hands frantically fanning her mouth.
"What's wrong?" I asked in alarm.
"I 'ot 'irt in 'y 'outh," she said.
"What?" I asked.
"Ugh! 'ere's 'irt 'on 'y 'ongue!" she yelped.
"What? Dirt on your tongue! Yuck!" With my palm I swiped a significant layer of dirt off her tongue, and then wiped my hand with the washcloth. "How did you manage that?" I asked. She spit on the ground several times before answering.
"I looked at my hands and saw brown stuff on them. I thought it was chocolate from my Smore so I went to lick it off, but it was dirt!" she explained.
"Oh you poor thing!" I laughed. "I bet you don't make that mistake again."
"Yeah, that was yucky!" she giggled.
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