sweats and s'mores.

One time Dad took us camping in the Grand Canyon. After a long, hot, tiring day of doing whatever families of seven do at the big GC, Dad plunked us five kids in front of the camp fire and handed us a bag of marshmallows.

Then he and Mom went into the camper.

hm hm.

We spent the evening, singing, "On the road again," and flinging flaming balls of hot mallow across the nearby road, onto other trailers, and into the trees. It was AWESOME. The next morning the scenery looked like a scene from Cloudy with a Chance of MALLOWS! 

Now, I take a moment to reflect on two great loves of my life, brought together by chance one lazy evening in the heart of Washington.

Teal sweats, and roasted marshmallows.