I’m ‌looking forward to this trip. It’s the first break I’ve had this summer, so ‌I’ve been dreaming about it. Still another 15 miles to go. I ‌hope I can make it‌ as I ‌wriggle in my seat. It never fails, I always have to go to the nearest bathroom as soon as I near a destination. Time for me to remember this is vacation time and a nice clean bathroom is not in the cards for a while. 

Looking around, I let my smile widen with joy. I love camping. I can’t wait until we’re all set up and we get ready for the absolute best part. My mouth waters as I picture roasting marshmallows the size of small dinner plates.

I plunk down quickly into a rickety camp chair and rub my hands towards the roaring fire pit, hoping I picked the right spot where the slight breeze wouldn’t send smoke my way.

“Okay, where’s the marshmallows and all the fixings for my S’mores? Who’s holding out on me?” I bellow, looking around at all the half-lit faces in a semi-circle around me. There’s a snicker behind me and I whirl around to catch my youngest grandson’s mischievous face as he darts around me with the marshmallow bag. I know what he wants. I jump up and begin the chase, shouting at him, “Give me back my beloved, squishy marshmallows. Wait until grandma catches up with you.” I lunge and just miss him. I halt, trying to catch my breath. When did he get so fast? Or am I getting that slow? I shake my head and make my way back to my comfortable chair. Maybe if I pout a little, he’ll take pity on me.

“Who has a fresh story to tell tonight?” I ask, as I lean back rubbing my full happy chocolate and marshmallow tummy.

Soft music begins and we hear, “It began in the deep forest in a remote are of Labrador. At a campsite much like this one, to be exact.” We all swing our heads in the music’s direction and the voice. We all lean forward, or as much as we are able with our full stomachs, and watch as he ambles towards us.