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This S'more 'S mine ,Thanks!
Saturday night at the cabin, Memorial Day weekend. Sun's going down, time for a fire in the new firepit and maybe some roasted marshmallows. Better yet, dig out the chocolate and the graham crackers and we could have S'mores (named of course for our endless appetite for these things . . . )
EM and her Pops (Uncle Judd to you, ninos) stake out a nearby hammock while the fire burns down into roasting embers.
Fire's ready! Dad and EM load a roasting stick with two marshmallows and find some hot coals. Notice the restrained demeanor of Dad, EM and Mollie the dog.
Starting to see a little browning along the edges of the 'mallow. Leaning into the task. Mollie inching forward as that enticing odor begins to waft into the evening air.
Casting restraint aside, EM and Mollie are fully engaged now, watching that browned exterior swell and soften. Delicious smells floating by. Careful now, don't let them fall into the ashes.
Fast forward to the completed product, hot marshmallow resting on chocolate square squeezed between two graham crackers. Chocolate melting, 'mallow cooling, ready for a bite. This is a first for EM.
EM turns away, reluctant to reveal her unhinge-the-jaw technique for biting into this tasty-but-squishy treat. Mom serves as enabler here.
Yum!
Stringy yum!
Okay, now for the hard part; Grandma explains that the next S'more belongs to her. Not negotiable. A lesson that must be learned early or the grown-ups around the campfire will never get another S'more.
Saturday night at the cabin, Memorial Day weekend. Sun's going down, time for a fire in the new firepit and maybe some roasted marshmallows. Better yet, dig out the chocolate and the graham crackers and we could have S'mores (named of course for our endless appetite for these things . . . )
EM and her Pops (Uncle Judd to you, ninos) stake out a nearby hammock while the fire burns down into roasting embers.
Fire's ready! Dad and EM load a roasting stick with two marshmallows and find some hot coals. Notice the restrained demeanor of Dad, EM and Mollie the dog. 
Starting to see a little browning along the edges of the 'mallow. Leaning into the task. Mollie inching forward as that enticing odor begins to waft into the evening air.
Casting restraint aside, EM and Mollie are fully engaged now, watching that browned exterior swell and soften. Delicious smells floating by. Careful now, don't let them fall into the ashes.
Fast forward to the completed product, hot marshmallow resting on chocolate square squeezed between two graham crackers. Chocolate melting, 'mallow cooling, ready for a bite. This is a first for EM.
EM turns away, reluctant to reveal her unhinge-the-jaw technique for biting into this tasty-but-squishy treat. Mom serves as enabler here.
Yum!
Stringy yum!
Okay, now for the hard part; Grandma explains that the next S'more belongs to her. Not negotiable. A lesson that must be learned early or the grown-ups around the campfire will never get another S'more.
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