I still smell like camp fire. The laundry isn't caught up. And the tent is still lying in a heap on my deck. When my kids were born I promised I wouldn't take them to the same place every summer. I want them to see the world. But when memories are made somewhere, really good memories, you want to go back and relive them. So every August, I find myself closing out summer in this magical place.
So my very good friend and I packed up our kids and set out to go camping.
We fed bugs cheez-its. Had fires on the beach. Found an uncountable amount of ladybugs.We washed our hair in coffee shops and we learned to pee in the woods. We rode our bikes before breakfast, we colored rocks and jumped waves. Flew kites and climbed dunes. We watched the most spectacular sunset I have ever seen. We discovered the true meaning of dirty and tired. We took our baths in the lake and felt the cold Lake Michigan water take our breath away as we dunked each other. We watched daddy long legs crawl on the outside of our tent at dawn. Tantrums were thrown as well as sand. Belly laughs were had.
Memories were made. Stories that will be told next year.
