We promised the girls a backyard campout, complete with a fire and smores. Seems like a simple promise to keep, right? Except who knew that on the very day we had planned said backyard campout, that it was going to be the hottest day of the entire year. We're talking capital H-O-T, triple digits, stinky, sweaty hot. But a promise is a promise and the girls had been counting down the days until the backyard campout. So we complied. Sort of.

Steve made a super small fire. We roasted approximately 15 marshmallows. I ate ten of them. The girls shared the other five.

At one point, Steve and I were quietly turning the skewers, in pursuit of the perfect, golden, gooey, toasted marshmallow, when I said, "It doesn't quite feel like we're camping." He just looked at me, wiped his brow and replied, "What? Is it the sweat running down your butt crack?" And then we both started laughing at the ridiculousness of the whole thing...roasting marshmallows by a fire in 90+ degree weather.

A few minutes later, Kate told me she had to get off the swing because her butt was wet from all the sweat. Yeah...there was lots of sweat. But we kept our promise and the girls had a blast.



We set up the tent in the family room. I tried to convince Steve that he should sleep there with the girls while I lounged in bed and watched a Hallmark movie. Unfortunely, he talked his way out of that one and took his sweaty butt to our comfy bed, leaving me to sleep on the floor between two chatty, giggly, goofy girls. It took them
forever to fall asleep and I was about to give up when all of the sudden everything got quiet.
And then out of the quiet darkness, one little three-year-old girl whispered in a sleepy voice, "Guess what, Mama? I love you." And everyone fell asleep.
It is one of those perfect moments that I hope I will remember, even when I'm old and gray. And to think that I almost missed it, in favor of a comfy bed and Hallmark movie. I'm so glad Steve took his sweaty butt to bed and left me between those two giggly girls.


Around 1:30 a.m., I made two trips up the steps, carrying little girls off to their comfy beds before curling up in mine. Because the fun part is falling asleep in the tent. Who needs to wake up there? Now that is my kind of camping!