"Bobby breakfasts," Bonfires, Boats, and Bees

I believed I was a car camping afcianato but when our campsite-mates pulled up in two vehicles, unloaded three coolers, a griddle, a colman camping stove, and "the oven" (a Weber grill in which biscuits could be cooked - awesome!), and declared two simple words - "Bobby breakfast!" - I knew that we were about to transcend to a level of tent camping that I had never dreamed possible! I had also never seen anyone stand on a picnic table to sweep it off before putting down a table cloth.

We rustled up scrumptious breakfasts ranging from pancakes to biscuits and always including sausage, bacon, and eggs, found a perfect spot for the hammock as well as three treasure troves of wood nearby to keep our fire stoked with large oak and pine stumps. Coupled with a half bottle of liquid fire, our fire was quickly ignighted and smores were patiently perfected (by those who have or have considered industrial engineering in their pasts). We swapped stories of snakes, near death experiences ("we ran over Bobby!"), and past lives (college seems so long ago). Sounds perfect - did I mention it was stinking hot and humid?!?

As our five collective kids swarmed over the campsite, highlights included sweeping the dirt, playing with toy trucks in the dirt, riding bikes through the dirt, and just playing in the dirt. Did I mention it was hot and humid? Ava Marie looked like an urchant by the time breakfast was over, glorious chaos. Fortunately there were showers and the lake where, not surprisingly, Ava Maria prefered the sand over the water.

I coaxed Luke out onto the tube and he couldn't decide if he was having the time of his short- lived life or if he was scard to death. When Wallace would whip me off of the tube Luke would yell, "Get my daddy back in the boat!" and he clapped happily when my tour behind the boat was done. I personally think you get one shot at rolling an innertube after which your arms are too pulverized to successfully roll in the next runs. Unfortunately, the draw strings on my trunk weren't cinched on my first pass which meant that I had seconds, while being dragged underwater behind a boat underneath a fifty pound tube, to chose to keep my modesty versus completing my roll. Since I am too modest to tube buck naked in broad daylight I let go. I was really proud of Luke's courage to face his fear and tube with his daddy!

We arrived back at the campsite to find that Katherine and "the bump" had packed the entire tent - "way to go Kramer!" Following this highlight, Luke and I caught a moment of tranquility hanging out in the hammock (pun intented) before all turmoil ensued thanks to a yellow jacket ("bee") stinging him on the finger. Five minutes toward home both kiddos were sacked out in their car seats thanks to Benadryl, a missed nap, and an amazing camping trip with the Reynolds and eleven other PCBC family friends.